Red Cockatiel Feathers
by PhoenixAshSecrets
Summary: At the end of the summer before fifth year, Hermione Granger's identity is challenged when she is revealed to be a pureblood. While facing discrimination, Hermione wonders if she can hang onto the friendships she built for four years or if they'll be as lost to her as her muggle family. Short chapters, Dramione, some OotP canon overlooked, T language & sexual situations. Complete!
1. Nimbia Selwyn

**Story Summary** :  
Hermione lived her muggle life as a minority, then lived her witch life as a minority. Late into the summer before fifth year, her identity has been challenged in a way she never thought it could be. She is revealed to be a pureblood and forced into an awkward friendship with the classmate who had bullied her, and now she has to deal with discrimination old and new from both sides. Hermione wonders if she going to be able to hang onto the friendships she built for four years, or if she will be forced to abandon them too and accept the fate determined by her new family.  
And going through puberty is not helping.

 **Race Note** : Although it's only mentioned a few times in the story (and shown in the cover art), Hermione is written as biracial (1/2 Black 1/2 Caucasian). Imagine her as you like, of course, but there is an extra layer with her race that you may want to consider if you've only ever seen Hermione as white.

 **Although I try to follow canon, I admit that there are times when I ignore it in favor of a more interesting story. Please keep this in mind as you read.** :)

* * *

"Nimbia! Leave with Hermione!"

Though his rough voice had just commanded her to leave him, Nimbia, a scared, twenty-year-old mother, stared a second longer into her husband's dark eyes. She couldn't leave Ouranos in good conscious, and yet the Aurors were already in their house.

"You can come with, we can all hide together-"

He scooped up their daughter and put her in Nimbia's arms with a small smile. He gave his lovely wife one last, quick kiss and left their room with the intention of saving her time. She heard his footsteps trail downstairs with horror. What was he doing? Where could _she_ go? She only had one other friend in this world, and her husband was no doubt being taken away too. The world was falling apart. These were good men and women the Aurors were sending to Azkaban.

She was sure they were going to search the whole house, and when they found her shaking in a corner they'd mercilessly take her sweet child away. She looked at Hermione. The little girl didn't deserve to be taken because of her mother's cowardice. Where, where on earth would she be safe? Where could she go? What would Ouranos do? He would tell her to go to a place the Aurors would never expect, and he would know exactly where. But she was not a clever Ravenclaw graduate like him; she couldn't outsmart ministry officials.

Then it came to her! She didn't delay a second longer. A loud pop echoed through the room, and Nimbia and her daughter were gone.

Hermione walked along a crowded, noisy street uncomfortably, arms crossed. People bumped into her from all sides. Everything was washed in gray. She wasn't claustrophobic, but it sure felt like it at the moment. Out of all the dreariness, something bright caught her attention. A tall, blonde woman with sunshine yellow cockatiels perched on her shoulders approached. Hermione had seen her face somewhere before. The tall woman handed her a pearly white balloon. She cautiously took it and began to float away. Scared but excited, Hermione rose, higher and higher until all she saw were splotches of color and the tall lady was just a golden spot among them. Soon the ground became gray, then it was nothing. All she had was empty white sky.

Yellow cockatiels from seemingly nowhere surrounded her and looked at her menacingly. She did not like them there at all, they made her feel terrible, like dementors.

"No!" She cried, anticipating their next move. But she couldn't stop them; something told her nothing would make them leave her alone. The dandelion-colored birds all aimed at her balloon. The cockatiels had screamed in terrible, high-pitched voices: Mementous! Her balloon popped.

Hermione sat up, a horrible feeling still in her chest.

"Mementous!"

This was not a dream anymore. She quickly stood up and took her wand out from under her pillow. The only light in the room was the red glow from her analog clock, which boldly shone its message of 2:23 AM, and a soft creamy light from under her door. None of the lights in the house should have been on at that hour. Terrified but determined to make sure her parents were safe, Hermione found her way out of her bedroom and in the hallway facing the living room. A woman wearing all black and purple, topped with an beaten pointy hat stood there. Her wand was out and she was looking around. She caught Hermione's eye. A weird sort of happy relief filled her eyes.

"Oh, thank goodness! Hermione." She spoke with the same high-pitched, twittery voice that had just cast mementous. Mementos, as Hermione well knew, was an anti-memory-altering charm to undo the effects of novimentous. She had read about it earlier this summer in one of her Charms textbooks for the coming year, _Quintessence: A Quest_. She couldn't figure how this stranger knew her name, or why anyone in the house had ever had their memories altered in the first place, but the two mysteries were likely related- and she would not let the woman leave until she had it all worked out.

"Who are you?" Hermione asked very sternly, trying to sound tougher than she felt. The woman looked a bit hurt.

"Your mother," the strange woman answered clearly. Hermione felt dizzy all of a sudden. Something in the back of her head throbbed like she was trying to remember something very important, but she simply couldn't remember a thing.

The woman did not appear to be a threat, as her wand was lowered and she did look like she at least believed that Hermione was her daughter. Though she had paler skin than Hermione, the stranger did resemble her otherwise, especially in the face. It was all very suspicious, though. She didn't have enough information to determine whether or not she could believe the woman. What Hermione did know was that mementous only restored a person's memories. It could not show lies. So her story was at least possible. Probable almost.

"Prove it then," said Hermione daringly. The woman seemed glad to, and carefully raised her wand. Hermione kept her own out for good measure and hoped beyond anything that this was not a big trap set by Death Eaters.

"Mementous!" What looked like a soft stream of lime-colored water flowed from the stranger's wand towards Hermione. When it hit her, her head felt much better. The memory she was looking for was a far-off one, from when Hermione must have been only six or seven. The stranger's face was indeed that of her mother, Nimbia Sewlyn.

Her pureblood mother.

She remembered everything about her past now, and though it felt realer in her mind, it was so wrong.

Her father was Death Eater Ouranos Selwyn, who had been caught after the First Wizarding War. He had confessed his crimes, and was sent to Azkaban, where supposedly he still was now. In her early years, Hermione and her mother traveled from place to place with only two backpacks full of essentials. They would change their location an average of once a week, and though her mother told her that they were rich, they didn't ever seem to have enough. With her current knowledge of the wizarding world, Hermione figured she probably had money in a vault in Gringotts, but couldn't access it while being in hiding.

Well, she probably could have, technically. They really didn't have to had been in hiding; he mother wasn't a Death Eater herself, but she was terrified of the ministry and Aurors. She thought that they would find a way to twist her words, make her confess something that wasn't true, or somehow take away her daughter if she remained accessible by the government.

That paranoia combined with Hermione's near-constant complaints about being hungry, thirsty, and tired all the time led to Nimbia's decision to send Hermione somewhere safer. In Hermione's mind, that seemed to be the smartest decision she could remember her mother ever making. Hermione Jean Sewlyn became Hermione Jean Granger, and she and her infertile parents thought she was just a little biracial baby abandoned at their door as an infant.

"Why have you come back for me now? I'm older, and I was happy here. I _liked_ being Hermione Granger. I can't be happy roaming the countryside with you, I never was and never will be." Hermione really wished she hadn't remembered her real self at all. Hermione Granger had such a nice, simple past, while Hermione Selwyn's history was full of dirt, lies, and shadows.

"Your father escaped from Azkaban!" Nimbia said excitedly, now almost crying of happiness. Hermione was horrified. "I haven't found him yet, but I've been reunited with sweet Cissa. She offered us a place to stay."

"What about my muggle parents? I love them too. They cared for me and loved me for years."

"If you must say goodbye, now's the time," Hermione's mother said, though it sounded as if it were a big inconvenience for her. Hermione didn't respond, she just ran upstairs into her parents' room.

"Mom, dad!" The muggles who helped raise her were in their bed, awake and staring at a framed photo. They looked up at her with sad, knowing smiles. They must have known she would leave them when they originally took her in. "You remember it all now, don't you? I do too, and I think my birth mother wants me to leave with her. I don't know what will happen if I refuse, so I'm going to go. I will write you as often as I can... and I love you."

Hermione went to her parents and hugged them tight. It was such a brief goodbye, it felt unworthy of them. All the same, she couldn't stand to extend the farewell any longer. She didn't want to get emotional. When she left the room, her mother was in all smiles. Going with her instead of staying here felt like a betrayal of herself. But then, so did staying here while her real mother wanted her company.

"Alright, now let's go. Cissa is waiting and I don't want her to fall asleep on me."

"Just go? I need to get my cat Crookshanks and my clothes and-" Hermione was interrupted by her mother grabbing her arm tightly and then she felt her body contort, as if she were somehow being squeezed through a three-inch pipe.


	2. Malfoy Manor

She didn't remember the rest of that night's events very clearly. She saw the cockatiel woman from her dream after disapparating from her home. Not long after, she was led into a dark room. The cockatiel woman told her she'd be sleeping in there. In the darkness, someone had introduced themselves drowsily, and they slept in a very comfortable double bed together. It all seemed weird and distant, as if it too had been a dream. Perhaps that was what she thought when she woke up, confused, in an unfamiliar room- with a confused and nervous Draco Malfoy at the end of her bed.

"Hermione?" She was pretty sure he had never used her first name before now. "You're the Selwyn heir? You said you were...well you never mentioned you were a pureblood, I would have remembered that."

"What the hell?" Hermione whispered to herself, sitting up. "Explain yourself, Malfoy."

"What am I supposed to explain? This is my room. I'm Draco Malfoy. And apparently you're Hermione Selwyn."

"Why am I in your room, Malfoy?" she growled. As much as the soft blankets called for her to stay, Hermione stood up to face him on even ground. His silver eyes met her gaze, though he kept considerable distance- a little more than her arm's length.

"Because we're both heirs to our pureblood names, our mothers are best friends, I don't see what you're getting at."

"Yeah, well I don't see what _you're_ getting at. What does your stupid blood status have to do with me being in your bed?" She couldn't even remember what happened, for all she knew he could have been taking advantage of her in her semiconscious state. She crossed her arms indignantly. Draco, on the other hand, was not really angry at all. He just looked confused as to how she didn't know the answer to her own question. To him it was obvious.

"Wait, your mom didn't tell you why you're here? You have no idea?" Hermione shook her head. "How long have you known you were a pureblood?"

"It's been a few hours. Just tell me what I don't know, stop stepping around it."

"Our parents are trying to see if we're a good match. For marriage," he said, with obvious difficulty. Hermione stared at him, trying to discern if he was telling the truth.

They were only fourteen, for god's sake.

"Our parents are trying to set us up? That's disgusting."

"No, that's called being a pureblood. For one, there aren't many pureblood lines left, so it's kind of a necessity. And more importantly for my family, the Malfoy line has had arranged marriages for the last six generations. Thankfully, we get to meet each other before they make their decision. I'm thankful to have some input, as you should be. If not for that, today would be our wedding day."

"Don't say that!"

"Say _what_?" Draco seemed legitimately confused as to why she was upset, though Hermione looked ready to slap him for it.

"We're just kids, and they know that we're full of hormones at this point of our lives. It's inhuman. Like they're trying to breed us." Draco sniggered and looked like he was going to make a filthy joke, but evidently decided against it.

"Perhaps that's how it seems from the outside, but that's just how our families work. You're not on the outside anymore, so we have to deal with each other until they've decided it won't work out. Or until it does." He raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"There is no way in hell I could ever like _you_."

"But you know me, at least. What other families does your mom have lined up for you over the holidays?" Draco was now legitimately curious about how much she knew.

"I don't know! I didn't even register that arranged marriages within pureblood families could still be going on in our age. A horrible assumption, apparently."

"Well, I doubt you personally know any others. Your mom would mostly know former Death Eaters and other Slytherins, whose kids are going to have high ambition and be Slytherins themselves."

"So what are you saying? That you are an option? I'd date a blast-ended skrewt before you. Anyway, what if I tell my birth mother to leave me alone or I just don't decide on anyone? Because that seems like the most reasonable option at the moment."

"Everyone would do that if they could, wouldn't they? The Ministry allows for wizarding parents to wed their underage children without their consent. At least one parent from both children has to agree, and the parents have to be a witch or wizard. If you tell your mother you want to marry some Mudblood-"

"Don't you use that word!"

"You're not even a muggleborn, Hermione. Why do you care?"

"Because it's still offensive."

"Anyway, if you say you don't want to marry anyone she's picked out, she'll just pick for you. Having a choice is really a privilege. I appreciate mine." He seemed to think himself better than her for what he considered graciousness, though to her it just seemed like he didn't want to stand up for himself.

"Never thought you'd try to lecture me on privilege. You're a rich, white, pureblood wizard."

There was a knock on the door before Draco could even open his mouth to respond, and Draco's mother entered the room. Hermione realized, to her surprise, that she was the cockatiel woman from her dreams. It was silly to think of her that way though, as she had met Narcissa Malfoy before. She had the same saccharine smile and the same caring blue eyes. The only difference was that this time her sweetness was directed at the both of them.

"Good morning, dears. It's wonderful to finally see you as yourself, Hermione. I hope Draco has been kind." She stared meaningfully at her son, who kept silent.

"He made an effort." Hermione said, forcing a smile.

"Wonderful." Narcissa's attention went back to Hermione. "Come with me, dear, we got you gifts in anticipation of your arrival. Come, come." Hermione did not want to come, mainly because she felt like she was being called like a dog, but she did anyway. At the moment, she felt rather helpless, since it seemed she wouldn't have a choice in anything. Narcissa led Hermione, with Draco following them, downstairs into a large living room. Everything looked expensive, from the heavily detailed design on the rug to the ornate chandelier above them. In the velvet chairs sat Lucius Malfoy and Hermione's mother. The center of the living room was full of at least a dozen wrapped gifts.

"These aren't all for me, are they?"

"Of course they are," said the smooth voice of Lucius Malfoy, whose fake smile made her very uncomfortable.

"You can open them." Draco whispered. Hermione gave him a harsh look and began to unwrap her gifts. As she suspected, they were all either expensive or rare items, with which she assumed they hoped to win her over.

She had received an olive cockatiel named Emmeryn, a silver and red jewelry box, three real silver necklaces, a pair of silver snake earrings, dress robes of an assortment of colors, a Malfoy genealogical book, a guide to raising magical birds, two new black silk cloaks, a pointed white hat decorated lovingly with a bow and black lace, and a silver cauldron with her name, Hermione Selwyn, engraved on the side.

It was very kind of them, but she felt awkward being bombarded with all these things from a family that would have collectively sneered at her a few days ago.

"Thank you." Hermione said softly. She knew they could sense the nervousness in her smile and the snappishness when Draco offered to help her carry her things. She didn't ask for any of this, she didn't want it. She wanted her books and Crookshanks and the parents who actually loved her. She wanted Draco Malfoy to stop being calling her 'Hermione' and being weirdly nice. She wanted everyone to stop subtly trying to earn her love when they hadn't deserved it.

How could her day have just begun?


	3. Agreements

"Don't call me Hermione!"

"That's your name! What do you want from me?"

"Well," Hermione began, "I think for starters, I'd like for you to leave me alone." Draco rolled his eyes and lied back on the grass. They were having a picnic in the garden, as per the schedule. Hermione had concluded several hours ago that both their mothers were mentally ill. All day her frustration with Draco Malfoy had been rising, but the mothers insisted that they just spend more time together. Did they think she'd eventually become immune to his unflattering personality?

"I can't leave any easier than you can. I didn't ask to have lunch out here with you either. Can't we just agree to get along? We have six days until September 1, not including the rest of today." How was it so _easy_ for him? She didn't want to deal with him at all. She felt as if being nice to him now would somehow be forgiving him for his four years of needless bullying that he had inflicted upon her.

A little part of her admitted he had a point. If they could just be decent to one another, the week would go by much faster. Their mothers wouldn't go as crazy on them, and altogether there would be fewer complications.

"Maybe, but only if you apologize."

"Alright. I'm sorry for calling you a- that name. And I'm sorry for making fun of your house elf group. And for teasing your friends."

She was surprised she had said he was sorry at all- but he had specified without prompting. If she was ever going to accept an apology from him, it would be now. She smiled victoriously.

"You're only saying it because you have to, but I appreciate the effort. We can agree to be decent for just this week." Both of them were secretly relieved that their last days of summer would not be ruined, as of this agreement.

As Hermione had suspected, the next few days went by much faster when they got along.

Hermione would write letters to her muggle parents, and Draco would send them off with his Eagle Owl when she finished. They would sit next to each other on Draco's bed reading (Hermione was shown the Manor library after dinner on that first day) and occasionally sketching. They even talked, when the situation permitted it. Hermione would complain about Draco's over-controlling parents, while Draco enjoyed explaining pureblood manners and traditions to her, which she only knew a little about.

As much as Hermione didn't want to admit it, their mothers' plot worked...sort of. They weren't interested in romance- at least, Hermione knew she wasn't- but they had become friends. Good friends, actually. A kind of friendship very different from her friendship with Harry, or even Ron. It was a friendship that formed from working towards a common goal and finding that they naturally meshed well together.

It was Saturday, August 30th. They had finished dinner an hour ago. Hermione had made herself comfortable in Draco's bed, under a pile of blankets.

"Hey babe, you got a letter."

Hermione poked her head out, frizzy hair wild as ever. She chuckled almost soundlessly.

"I swear, if Ron ever heard you call me that..." Hermione said playfully as she took the letter he was holding out for her. "He'd murder you." Draco had joked many times about only using pet names with her since she had exclaimed once ' _Don't call me Hermione!'_. She would always laugh a little and now it was a habit.

"You don't have to be babe. Dear, darling, milady, sweetheart... We have all sorts of options."

As Hermione examined the letter, she saw the address was from her muggle parents, and excitedly began to open it.

"And Ron would murder us both for any of them. He wouldn't get it even if we explained it a million times." She put the envelope on the endtable beside her and read as they continued talking.

"Well I'm not going to stop being myself around you because of Weasley." Draco finished, and didn't say anymore so as to not disrupt her reading.

The letter from Hermione's parents was very much like her own. They told her they missed her and loved her dearly, and would appreciate the visit she had offered. They also said they'd bring all her school things she had left to King's Cross station for her on the 1st of September. She smiled, glad to know she'd see her parents and Crookshanks soon. Her cockatiel was nice enough, but it was not her cat.

"Everything's alright with them." Hermione announced happily. "They're going to bring my things at the Station on Monday."

"That's good," Draco agreed. He sat beside her on the bed, and tried to calm her hair. He found that it was more stubborn than she was and quickly gave up. Hermione smiled a little and sat up.

"I'm glad we decided to get along. I suppose we're friends now."

"You suppose? I hated you, but I know we're friends. You're surprisingly nice." He then kissed her on the check, and Hermione felt her cheeks turn garnet.

"What'd you do that for?" She said, grabbing his face and kissing him square on the lips before he could answer. He pushed her away, much to her embarrassment.

"Do you like me?" he asked, trying to figure out what had just happened.

"Yes. No! No, I like Ron. Wait, don't- I didn't say that." She was very confused with herself now. She had no idea what had compelled her to kiss him.

"I'm not going to tease you for liking Weasley, if that's what you're worried about. He probably returns the feeling. Maybe it'll work out. They're considered blood-traitors, so it's not likely, but you never know."

"Yeah, maybe," she said, uncertain.

It was silent for a minute, and the pair refused to make eye contact. Finally, boldly, Draco reached his arms around her waist. They both leaned in and their lips met again. This time they weren't nearly as clean or careful or contained. When they separated, they felt the same warm, frantic rush.

"We're just friends. " Hermione assured, wiping off the excess saliva on her mouth with her hand. "We can't be more than friends. When you really think about it, this is all happening so quickly. We hardly know what we're doing. I mean, you're still you, and I'm still me. We can't- we just can't." She pulled away his arms from her and shook her head, as if to signify that was the end of it.

"Of course we're not going to end up together. But I think we can still admit that we like each other a little. You're gorgeous and smart and very caring. And I-" he bit his lip, thinking for a second. "I don't know what I am, but you just kissed me twice so I think that's worth something."

"Don't act like you don't think you're the best creature to walk this earth."

"I don't. I'm not _that_ self absorbed. What I was saying is, we still can be friends without pushing away our feelings. We can still like each other without agreeing to get married. We'd never last if we did anyways."

Why did he always seem to have a good point? Maybe he didn't even have a point, she couldn't actually tell. She did know, however, that her feeling of warm adrenaline coursing through her veins was not going away. She wanted his words to be true so badly.

"Right... As long as it's clear we're nothing more than friends."

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to separate herself from the reality she had gotten herself into. When that still didn't work, she just let herself kiss him again and unbutton his dark shirt like she wanted to. They had an unusual relationship brought on by an unusual circumstance; it was by no logic their fault. Really. Falling asleep half-naked and cuddled with Draco Malfoy was _not_ her fault.


	4. Old and New

Wow! Thank you everyone for sticking with this quickly written fic for so long! As I hinted before, I'm just trying to get out these short chapters as fast as I can as a sort of personal challenge. I don't care as much for the quality as long as I get it done, and I know it shows. What's more important to me is that I finish it all.

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Hermione Selwyn, formerly Hermione Granger, woke up the morning of August 31st pressed against Draco Malfoy's hard chest. She was quite a bit more exposed than when usually would've felt comfortable.

"Are you awake, babe?"

Hermione groaned and pushed away. She didn't know why she was feeling upset. They had fallen asleep next to each other, it wasn't as if he forced her onto him.

"Are you alright?" Draco continued, sitting up. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," she answered confidently. She was not angry at him, she realized, she was angry at herself. She had enjoyed every second of trying to plot out his mouth the night before. "I just need to get dressed."

Although she now had to face the fact that she and Draco were attracted to each other, their friendship hadn't changed much. Draco had taken up a new habit of kissing her cheek, which she might've thought gross some time ago but now found sweet. Sunday was her favorite day at the manor by far, though it was the last. The next morning they would go off to Hogwarts.

It came too fast. Time seemed to progress at double the normal speed. Soon she was back in Draco's room and feeding Emmeryn, her new olive cockatiel, right before bed. Draco's mother told her the bird was magical, but she was pretty certain it couldn't understand her voice, much less do anything useful.

"Did mother ever show you her room full of these things? She has over a dozen varieties. She and father are equally crazy about birds, for some reason. She loves the intelligent little songbirds, he likes the large showy ones."

"I don't know how she's going to get along with Crookshanks. She'll probably end up in his food dish. Actually, how is she getting to Hogwarts in the first place? We're only allowed to have owls, cats, or toads."

"Darling, you're a pureblood. The rules don't apply to you anymore."

Hermione didn't have a response for that. She closed the birdcage and covered it again. Beside the cage all her other gifts- including expensive new clothes and jewelry- sat inside the silver cauldron the Malfoys had also given her. She was going to look rich and spoiled, coming in fifth year with all these new things.

"Well, I'm tired," Draco said as he left her side to lay down. She supposed she needed to get some rest as well. Hermione followed and made herself comfortable, which wasn't hard in such a nice bed. She fell asleep with her chest against his back.

"Did you double check that you have everything?" Mrs. Selwyn asked Hermione just minutes before they were to leave for King's Cross station.

"I think I have all the stuff I borrowed," she said, barely masking her irritation at not having her own things.

"Alright, you keep in touch. I'll be searching the country for your father, in the meantime. He's supposed to be traveling with Cissa's sister." Hermione feigned interest in her Death Eater father with a nod.

"That's great. I think we'd better go now though." She turned to Draco's mother, who was going to the station with them.

"Have you traveled by floo powder before?" Narcissa said, which Hermione took to be a little condescending, even though she honestly had only used it once. She nodded. "Draco, you first then."

Draco took a handful of silvery powder from the jar his mother held out for them and threw it into the lit fireplace. The weak orange flames rose up and turned bright emerald green. Draco walked into the fire without even the faintest hesitation.

"Platform nine and three-quarters, King's Cross station," he said clearly, and he was engulfed in the flames. In seconds the fire simmered to it's low, red-orange state again. Hermione did the same, being sure to pronounce her destination as clearly as possible.

The floo network was situated in fireplaces along the brick wall opposite the train, so that she could see the red engine when Draco helped her out.

"Glad you made it, babe." He kissed her cheek just as his mother appeared. Hermione thought of snapping back that _of course_ she made it, she had been a part of the wizarding world for four years now. But Narcissa, seeing that the relationship she tried to forge actually had a chance, gave them a darling smile and ruffled Hermione's hair with her little hand. Hermione smiled sheepishly, but Draco had turned red and shook his head sternly. "Don't start, mother."

"Hermione," Narcissa cooed, looking to her as she would a daughter, "How is little Emmeryn?"

"Oh, fine, I'm sure."

"Let her out. She loves people."

"I know, but she might fly off or something, and I don't want her to get hurt." Narcissa shook her head. "She'll perch right on your shoulder, see?"

"Mother, really?" Draco interjected.

"Oh, hush." Narcissa uncovered the cockatiel's cage and opened up the door. To Hermione's surprise, the little parrot hopped near the entrance of its cage and then fluttered up onto her shoulder. With a small victory smirk, Narcissa closed up the cage and then took it, along with her bag of other gifts and borrowed clothes. "I'll take your things to the train while you meet with your... other parents."

Without much of a say, she was ushered away and began looking for the muggle dentists who'd raised her. When she found them, plain looking muggles in a corner looking around, she embraced her sweet mother.

"Thank you so much for coming!" Hermione exclaimed. "It's been crazy this week..." They smiled, trying to understand, and handed over the crate with a very grumpy-looking Crookshanks and a suitcase likely filled with her schoolbooks and other belongings. She hugged them both tight, promised she'd write them, and cheerfully headed back towards the train. She saw Ron and his family and waved. Ron smiled breifly but it quickly turned to a grimace of horror.

Draco swept his arm casually around her waist from behind.

"Hello again, dearest," he greeted her, smirking.

"Draco! Ron's looking, and he's going to think something's up if you keep-"

"Get the hell away from her, Malfoy!" Hermione swore Ron must have apparated in front of them,

"Ron, stop! This isn't what it looks like. We're friends. _Just_ friends, I might add. People are going to get the wrong idea." The last sentence was obviously directed at Draco. She crossed her arms. With an annoyed sigh, Draco removed his hand and did the same.

"Wait a bloody second-" Ron started, looked confusedly from Hemione to Draco and back. "What in hell's name happened between you, Hermione?"

"It's a long story." She explained dumbly.

"Sounds like you're going to have a fun train ride. I'm not getting involved," Draco insisted. "Him and Potter will throw a tantrum."

"You're already involved, touching Hermione like that!" Ron said, almost retching.

"Are you jealous, Weasley? If so, you can have her. My life would be considerably easier; I could just marry Pansy or Daphne's little sister."

Ron narrowed his eyes, now more confused than before.

"It's an eight hour train ride. I want you to know what's going on. You're my best friend, Hermione, anything to do with you is my business!"

The situation just kept getting worse. A familiar voice called to them.

"Ron? Hermione?"

Harry was walking towards the group, luggage still in tow. "Malfoy?"

"Sorry sweetheart, this is where I leave. I am not explaining my life story in front of your stupid friends." Draco glared at Harry and scoffed pretentiously.

"I don't want a life story, but something's up." Harry said, glaring back with equal intensity. Emmeryn the bird twittered maliciously at Harry for his offensive look.

Hermione groaned.

"Draco, you have to help me with this. We're going to sit together on the train and explain everything to my friends together. And I'll do the same for you, if necessary."

"It won't be necessary, because my friends aren't idiots. They would understand everything if all I said was that you turned out to be a Selwyn."

"A what?" Harry asked, looking to Hermione for confirmation.

"It's a pureblood wizarding family. I mean, I knew I was adopted my whole life. My parents were white." She forced a laugh which was not returned by anyone present. "So as it turns out, I'm not a muggleborn. I'm from the Selwyns. My birth mother apparently knew Draco's and-"

"Woah, woah, woah-" Ron interrupted her, his eyes wide, "You're engaged to him, aren't you? You're engaged. To Draco Malfoy. Our enemy." Harry arched an eyebrow, not sure what to think.

"Not so loud, Ron. And no, we're not engaged. Just awfully close to it. We're just... we're friends now though."

A loud whistle flooded all the noise on the platform for a second.

"C'mon, babe, you need to get your extra luggage on the train." Draco said, pulling her away. Hermione heard Ron commenting angrily behind them.

"Harry, I think they fancy each other. Why else would he call her pet names? And did you see her necklace? She was wearing the bloody Malfoy crest."

For as much as she had looked forward to seeing Ron, she never imagined it would go this badly before they even boarded the train. She thought that somehow she could keep everything from before. How silly it seemed now. She knew eventually she had to either betray her birth family or leave her fake past. There was no way she could reconcile having a Death Eater father and being friends with The-Boy-Who-Lived.


	5. Hogwarts Express

Hermione was not sitting in Harry and Ron's compartment on the train. In her mind she knew that she had no reason to be here with Draco. They only _really_ knew each other for a week. It felt kind of whorish when she realized the only reasonable explanation she choose him was because they had seen each other almost naked.

And because he had an arm around her now and their legs were intertwined.

Besides Draco and herself, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, and Pansy Parkinson were also in their compartment, although at the moment they were staring at her as if she were made of rotting flesh, with their upturned noses and not-so-subtle, quizzical glares. He was apparently waiting for the right moment to relieve her of their magical racism.

"Could you stop staring?" Draco commended, getting irritated.

"Did you just forget she was a damn Mudblood?" Hermione winced. It was still offensive, no matter her blood status.

"Oh, that explains it. I thought you all would have heard. Hermione's the Selwyn heir. Our mothers met during the war, but when everything fell apart her parents let a pair of muggles raise her."

"Shit, I'm sorry, Hermione." Theodore apologized, eyes wide. "We were all affected badly by the first war, believe me."

"She doesn't like being called Hermione," Draco corrected.

"Oh, shut it," she growled with a slight smile.

"We didn't mean to be so rude," Pansy added, putting a hand on Hermione's arm as if she needed comfort. "I really mean it, and I hope you aren't upset that I dated Draco last year. We all thought you were filth. It's obvious now, we should have known. Oh, I sound so stupid!"

"No need to apologize. I mean, I suppose my friends and I returned it. I'm not... I'm not dating Draco though, definitely no need to apologize for that either. We're just friends."

"Well," said Daphne excitedly, "That's just for now. Things change fast. I mean, just this summer my parents had me stay with three different pureblood guys, all back to back. I thought they were insane, because after one week you're basically not thinking about boys anymore. But then I found my match with Theo. We're getting married this spring. I know it seems like a long wait, but only so I can have one of those beautiful spring bouquets. Spring weddings are my personal favorite."

Hermione did her best not to gag. Was this her bleak future? A marriage determined by one week as a teenager?

"That's wonderful," she tried to say cheerfully.

"Thanks," Theodore and Daphne said together, smiling.

"I like winter, myself," Pansy added, "Gemma's wedding on Christmas Eve was just so gorgeous. And I think Vincent might just be the one, fingers crossed." Changing the subject, the small Slytherin girl continued, "Hermione, if you're not planning on staying with Draco, then who? And who will _you_ find, Draco; you've tried almost every pureblood girl in the country." Draco made an irritated grunt.

"I don't need you of all people telling me that, Pansy. I hear it enough from my father."

"She has a point." said Astoria, "I think you two ought to think about this some more. You're already friends, what else could you want?"

"No," said Hermione sternly. Her cockatiel made a short squeak and hopped from her shoulder to Draco's. "I don't want an arranged marriage at all."

"It's not really arranged," Pansy said, "Your mother wants you to continue on your name with pride. And she wants you to be happy, that's why we meet the boys before we're promised to them. Who would you pick, if you could have anyone in the world?"

"I don't know. I might not even know the man I'd get married to yet. I planned on waiting until I was at least in my mid-twenties."

"To get married?"

"Yes?"

"And then you'll wait another decade to produce heirs? Waiting that long is just ridiculous. We're not dirty muggles like you're used to being around."

"You're right. I guess I'm just not a dirty skank like you're used to being around." Hermione stood, smirking, and Emmeryn flew back onto her shoulder as she left the compartment.

She wondered if Harry and Ron would let her sit with them.

Of course they would. Nothing all that dramatic had happened.

Oh, who was she kidding? Draco Malfoy, their biggest enemy at the school, had slept in the same bed with her, voluntarily taken off half his clothes with her, passionately made out with her; in front of Harry and Ron he had called her pet names and put his hand around her waist. Soon he'd surely be spotted kissing her cheek or worse-

No, their flirting was playful and platonic, they both knew that. It was the whole basis of their friendship. She was in trouble if she started questioning it now.

She ran right into Neville Longbottom while immersed in her thought. He nervously squeaked an apology and started to move around her, but she stopped him.

"Wait, Neville. Have you seen Harry and Ron?"

"They're back there somewhere. Sorry," he pointed in the direction that she was already going and went off on his way. Hermione kept going, and without having to go down much farther, she saw that she wouldn't have to listen at each compartment door, for Harry and Ron had theirs open.

"Hermione! We were waiting for you to come here. Glad you managed to escape captivity." It was Ron, he was smiling at her. Of course he was. Her worries were silly; Harry and Ron cared too much about her to let two minutes ruin their friendship. Hermione sat down next to him, and he stared, first at Emmeryn, and then, dissaprovingly, at the silver necklace given to her by the Malfoys. "Why are you wearing that thing, though? It makes you look like his property."

"What I'd like to know," Harry interjected, noticing her uncomfortably shifting, "Is what's with the bird?"

"Her name's Emmeryn, she's a cockatiel. Draco's mom breeds them."

"So you call him Draco now?" Ron was starting to look more than a little peeved. He was emotional, and so quick to anger.

"Can she do anything?" Harry asked, moving the conversation away from the Malfoy family.

"Well, they can learn to sing and talk, and this one is supposedly magical, but I haven't figured out how so. In fact, so far I've only hear her make normal bird noises, but I got a book-"

"Get away!" Harry snapped suddenly. Hermione jumped and spotted Draco walking towards them, gray eyes set on them.

"We should have closed the compartment doors when we had the chance. Don't worry, that bastard won't have the chance to try anything." Ron stood up and took out his wand, pointing the weapon dangerously at Draco.

"How much trouble are you willing to get in for her?" Draco hissed, stepping inside and closing the compartment door.

"Leave me alone," Hermione said, her voice cracking and her eyes welling up in frustration. Emmeryn squaked and nestled into her hair.

"The lady wants you to go," warned Ron.

"Yeah, get out, Malfoy," Harry added.

"Actually, I have a better question," Draco said, ignoring them, "Do either of you love her? If you do, like I said before, that would make my life much easier."

"Just leave, Malfoy. We don't need your petty drama." Ron moved his wand threateningly, though Draco wasn't convinced, judging by his unchanging expression.

"Do you? Weasley? Potter?"

"We don't need to love her to know you're no good, Malfoy. _Get the bloody hell out_."

"She needs the answer as much as I do. Do you really think her mother is going to let her just do as she likes? You don't know anything about us. If she keeps being so undecisive, they'll just roll the dice and she'll end up with the likes of Goyle. For her sake, say something if you do."

Ron just glared, silently. Harry took out his wand and was watching Draco carefully. After a long bout of silence, Draco spoke again.

"I'm sorry I bothered you, Hermione." She didn't say anything, in fact Hermione was trying to hold back tears that had been forming in her eyes. She wiped her face and stared hard at the floor. "If I could have one more minute of your time, alone-"

"There's no way-" Ron started.

"You're a good friend, Ron." Hermione said, standing up. She didn't know if he could hear the bitterness in her voice, but Harry definately did, because he looked just as upset as he would had she just insulted them directly. She left with Draco, who began speaking as soon as they were out of Harry and Ron's earshot.


	6. Broken History

"Hermione, we promised we wouldn't do this. I promised. I know. But it's like everyone's said, you can't avoid your fate and I can't either." They went into the train compartment they had been in before, but now Draco's friends were gone. Hermione's emotions were swirling. She had almost been crying minutes ago, and now had a nervous, heavy feeling in her stomach. She knew exactly what he was getting at.

"You're calling me Hermione. What is going on?" she feigned innocence, perhaps thinking she had it wrong. She didn't really know what she was thinking anymore.

"I am as close to loving someone as I've ever been. I want to marry you. Say yes and I'll write to mother as soon as I get to the dorms. And I can wait if you're not sure."

"Oh-"

"We get along so well after one week. I know I said we wouldn't last but we're at least getting along, how bad could it be? I want this to work, Hermione, please try to understand."

"No, I get it. I'm just a little confused right now. I thought Ron... even if he was just saving face, I really thought he might've..." She grasped for words. "And what you did, going after me in there, that was very odd for you, too. I know you didn't want anything to do with my friends, but you still spoke so plainly to them. It was brave, almost."

"I barged in demanding what I wanted," Draco corrected, his face flushed. Hermione looked away, trying to figure out how to say what she wanted.

"Do you love me?" was not what she had hoped would come out.

"Yes. I'll go tell your friends too, if you want. I can prove I'm not a hypocrite."

"You don't have to, but it'd be nice if you did. Not now, of course. I want to say yes; I think we'd be better off getting married. Logically, it'll prevent any more stress for the both of us, and it'll force Ron and Harry to get over our friendship, relationship, whatever we are."

Emmeryn flew onto the edge of the compartment window knowingly.

Hermione had never known an eight-hour train ride to be so dramatic. By the time she had reunited with Ron and Harry- who didn't seem too convinced she was a victim anymore- rumors from Gryffindors and Slytherins alike had made their rounds to just about everyone in their year. It started with Lavender Brown claiming to have caught her and Draco snogging, which Hermione couldn't immediately rule out as untrue, and had now developed into whispers that she had lost her virginity in the changing room.

"I only spent so long in there because I had to dig through half of my belongings just to find my uniform."

"And you were just having a nice friendly chat with Malfoy," Ron retorted angrily.

"My god, Ron, I told you! Yes, we kissed. Do you want me to go into details to clear it up for you?"

"I'll go without, thanks."

"Well, we decided we'd avoid any more trouble and just get married. You can get it all out now."

"What? Hermione, no! No! You are not getting MARRIED to-" Hermione covered Ron's mouth. Emmeryn twittered in what Hermione interpreted as an annoyed tone.

"Never mind, if you're going to scream like that," she snapped. A few people in the threstal-pulled carriages near them were staring. She let go after a moment, once he seemed to get the idea. Harry looked concerned.

"Hermione," he started, "I don't really understand. If you're going to be forced to marry someone, wouldn't you want it to be someone who... I don't know, maybe who doesn't have Death Eaters for parents?"

Hermione bit her lip, thinking about her father. She didn't have any memories of him, she had been too young. She did remember her mother telling about her tales of her father and his great deeds under the Dark Lord. She was not going to tell Harry, not now, when the both of them were dealing with enough of her issues.

"Yes, but at least I know him. And he said he loved me."

"That's a load of dragon dung," said Ron. "You've lost it, you've completely lost it. That's the only explanation. That or this is one nasty joke."

"It's not a joke. Or I'm not in on it, if it is." Hermione glanced down at the ring he'd given her, which she had been partially covering with her right hand.

The entire ring was a diamond-studded winged serpent, which had wrapped itself around her finger once and then coiled around the larger center diamond. Draco had said his mother gave it to him before she went back to the manor. As suspiciously convient as it was, Hermione wouldn't put it past the woman. Whether it was because Draco was running out of options or just that she was very fond of her and her mother, Narcissa had been pushing their marriage hard.

"Let me see that." Ron said, staring at her hands as well. "You've had it on, you must think it's pretty nice. Just show us how great the stupid thing is." His voice was vile and full of bitterness.

"No." She covered her hand fully. They were almost at the castle entrance. It couldn't come fast enough.

"Hermione..." Harry said, unsure of how to comfort her.

It was quiet for a minute, until they had reached their destination and they had stopped. Hermione pushed out of their carriage first, and walked ahead of them, alone.

Proffesor McGonagall led the students into the Great Hall for the sorting of incoming first-years, and afterwards, dinner. Hermione sat next to Ginny, who asked her a million questions she most definitely didn't feel like answering, but did anyways. Yes, the necklace was from Draco; yes, she kissed him; no, she was a still a virgin; yes, Ron and Harry would be fine; _yes_ , she was engaged to him, as of a few hours ago.

She was occupied less by her half-lie about Harry and Ron and more interested in the sudden realization that she had been proposed to on the Hogwarts Express.

"How unromantic," she murmured dully to herself, just as the Headmaster began to speak. Hermione barely kept her eyes open. She wasn't tired in the usual sense, but she did desperately need to lay down and just think without being bothered by anyone. The crowds, the people, the questions... it would drive her insane. Or, if Ron was right about her, at least more insane than she already was.

She subtly admired her ring, all silver and diamonds. She had caught the pattern quickly, with all her gifted jewelry being silver, her cauldron, Narcissa's own jewelry, Lucius' cane, and Draco's-

She wouldn't finish that thought, because it was dumb, for one, and she was only thinking about his eyes because she tricked herself into liking him. It was self-defense, she explained in her head to herself, for if she hadn't liked him she would have to like someone else, a stranger, and that was not a game of chance anyone would want to play. His eyes might've also snuck into her thoughts because she was staring at them across the room.

Dumbledore had finished introducing the woman in all pink and the Sorting began. Hermione clapped, delayed, whenever a first year was put into Gryffindor, and only that because the loud cheering and clapping around her would shake her back into reality for a moment. She was so thankful to get to her dorm and let Crookshanks out (not before caging a happy little cockatiel) and unpack all her clothes, school supplies, and gifts from the Malfoys. Lavender stared wide-eyed at the expensive garments Hermione was putting into her dresser. She just sighed in defeat. There would be a million more questions from a million more Gryffindor girls in the morning. At least she knew what to expect.


	7. Plans

Wow! I can only assume I have so many followers because I update almost daily. If you're getting bored of all the talk of romance (although that is the focus of this fic) I'm planning on slowing down the lovey-dovey narrative and focusing instead on the consequences of Hermione's decisions, OOtP plot, friendship drama, and the little cockatiel Emmeryn after this chapter. For now, thanks for reading.

* * *

After getting dressed and feeding an irritated Crookshanks, (he did not appreciate being abandoned for a week and then being stuffed into a carrier, and one night was clearly not time enough to get over it) Hermione went down to the Great Hall to have breakfast. She sort of stared dumbly at the Gryffindor table, where everyone either looked angrily at her or beckoned her to come with empty smiles that surely wished to hear every juicy detail of her story. She glanced at the Slytherin table- she could hear Ron make a disapproving noise- but saw more of the same, and some of it directed at Draco.

Well, she wasn't the first to have an arranged marriage, apparently, so what was the big deal? Was it that she had been thought to be a muggleborn nobody all this time? Did anyone believe she had lied? She took a deep breath and walked quickly over to Draco, who smiled uncomfortably at her. She could feel stares. So many pairs of eyes boring into her and it seemed like the whole hall paused their conversations just to listen in on her.

"Would you like to have breakfast outside?" She said weakly.

"That...sounds nice." He took his plate, stood up, and they left together- when they got out, it felt like she had remembered how to breathe after having forgotten for a few minutes.

"Thank you."

"Did you know people thought we- never mind. It's just rediculous. Even the Slytherins. They should really know better than this." He took a slice of bacon from his plate and handed the rest to her, which she took gratefully. The sat outside near the Herbology greenhouse. "We have to go back and get our schedules, you know."

"Yeah, I know. But I couldn't eat in there." She took a bite of the egg, which was quite good, but spoke again before taking another. "Did you send a letter to your mother?"

"Of course I did; that was all I was thinking about. And I'll let you know when I get her reply."

Over the next few days, Hermione focused more on the positives in her life. She hated the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, but just about everyone did, and she got something better in return. Potions class, of all things, became her retreat, as Professor Snape started treating her fairly and even stopped her after class to congratulate her for her new, higher-quality cauldron. She would get to sit with Draco (Ron kept making comments when she sat near him) and the Slytherins stopped their whispers fairly quickly.

She had all her meals outside with her fiance, and the time they spent made her more and more confident in her decision. And on Saturday morning, just five days after school started, Draco told her he received a response from his mother. Narcissa, of course, was overjoyed, and asked Hermione to send her plans by owl. Plans?

Draco suggested Pansy could help, since she knew his family well and was one of the few pureblood girls he knew that wasn't busy with her own wedding. They went to the castle basement after breakfast where Draco had her wait outside the Slytherin common room while he went in. She wasn't technically allowed to know the location of the other common room, so he was technically breaking the rules, but she didn't feel all that bad about it. Harry and Ron had snuck in during their first year and told her where it was in case she needed to know, and Ernie Macmillion, a fairly kind Hufflepuff boy was also sitting outside the room, across from her, presumably also waiting for someone. They didn't say anything to each other, but thankfully Draco came out quickly with a very excited little Pansy Parkinson. Because of her smaller stature and the abnormally ecstatic grin she wore, Pansy looked reminiscent of a first year just out of Honeydukes.

The three of them went to the library- Hermione saw Harry working on something alone there- and sat down an an unoccupied table together. Pansy explained in hushed glee that this was supposedly the best part of getting married ("Really?" said Draco amusedly). At the end of the first hour, they had only decided that her gown _probably_ should be white. Pansy kicked Draco out for being distracting at two hours in, and by the end of the day Hermione was firm on her stance that their parents could do whatever they wanted for them, because she was not wasting any more time figuring what flowers she wanted or finding a color scheme that "represented herself".

Harry was surrounded by books and parchment now, still working, so she sat near him to see what he was up to.

"Hey Hermione. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Are you? You've been here all day. And you didn't have someone bringing you food either."

"I know. Do you think you could make Goyle propose?"

"Oh, very funny. But next time I can ask Draco to bring you lunch or something. He'd do that, you know."

"Maybe. I'm not sure I'd trust anything he got me, though."

"Harry, he's not evil, he's just, oh, never mind. What are you doing, anyway?"

"Just reading up on Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Really? But what for?"

"What for? Umbridge won't teach us anything, and I saw Voldemort come back. Aren't you worried too? You're still on our side, aren't you?"

"Of course I am," Hermione said, a little hurt. "Ron's a pureblood too, you know; I'm not that special just because of my blood status. I never was defined by that, and never will be."

"It's not just that your a pureblood, Hermione. Need I remind you that Malfoy's father was and still is a Death Eater? Think about that for just a second. If you're engaged to Malfoy, his dad is your father-in-law."

"I have thought about it, if you hadn't noticed. It's all I've been thinking about. Draco, his family, you guys... but I already made my decision."

"But I can't help but think you made that decision on instinct. That's not necessarily bad, _I_ do that all the time, and it usually works out, but this is different. This is huge. And it's not just Malfoy. Ron said Ouranos Selwyn, your dad, was a Death Eater too. He escaped from Azkaban with the others just a few weeks ago."

"What do you want me to say, Harry? I'm sorry I have an evil dad, I'll try better next time? I can't control that, alright? And I can't control my mom wanting to marry me off either. If I had it my way I'd forget everything and go back to how it was. Second best, I'd wish to be dumb and evil as them, so I wouldn't always feel like I have to defend the decisions I didn't make made by people I never knew. Just not this, Harry, I didn't want this."

"I'm sorry, I'm stressed." Harry said with a low sigh. "I know you are too. We all are a little tense. On one hand, at least we're back at Hogwarts-"

"You can say that again," she agreed.

"-but on the other, it's like everything's gone to shit. You're being forced into this awful family situation, Ron's doing the same thing he did last year, the Ministry is denying Voldemort's return, and they sent this useless woman here to make sure we learn nothing to protect ourselves. Voldemort himself could show up right here, right now, and I wouldn't even blink an eye. Nothing would surprise me anymore."

"I just hope Ron feels better soon. Then we could all hang out again. It's always easier to get through things when I have you two." Hermione checked the clock which hung high on the wall above the door. "Curfew's in twenty minutes. Do you want help cleaning up?"

They worked together to gather all Harry's belongings and put the books in an orderly pile (they didn't have time to put them all back, much to Hermione's dismay) before leaving.

Draco was standing outside the library, apparently waiting for her.

"Draco? You do know curfew is in nearly five minutes, don't you? If Filch catches you wandering around you're going to be in trouble."

"Sorry. I was just...making sure. I'll see you in the morning, Hermione," Draco paused, "You too, Potter."

"Alright?" Harry gave Draco the most confused look Hermione had ever seen as he walked away. They continued up the stairs. "What was that? What was he making sure of?"

"I don't know. I can't read his mind. But hey, he acknowledged you, right?" Harry just shook his head smiling, both a little happier, a little calmer.


	8. Winter Holidays

The three months leading up to Winter Holidays were eventful as ever.

As Harry had predicted, Professor Umbridge became more and more power-hungry as time went on. She tried to form an Inquisitorial Squad, although when it got to that point, Draco refused to participate, and even got some of his fellow Slytherins to stay out of her mess. The whole school was against her, and in that strange way, Umbrige had united the student body more fully than anything else Hermione could imagine.

Pansy Parkinson adoringly helped her plan her wedding, as much as persistence as Hermione avoided it. And Ron, thank the gods, finally started speaking to her again. She still ate all her meals outside or in the basement near the Slytherin common room with Draco.

Crookshanks got over his grudge, and began to watch Emmeryn, the caged olive cockatiel, with intense curiousity. When Hermione let Emmeryn out of her cage, she kept +-other.

Emmeryn was magical though, Hermione was convinced that the bird Narcissa gave her could sense things the same way Crookshanks could. She read _Caring for the Nonworking Avian_ by Rosalina Varzea, a large book containing all she needed to know about magical birds, focusing mainly on varieties of parrots, songbirds, pheasants, peafowl, and pidgeons.

"Really, owls are overrated and just overshadow many potentially useful magical birds. They aren't any smarter just because they happen to be a bit larger," Hermione would inform her friends very matter-of-factly, at which Harry and Ron would groan because _honestly, Hermione, that's the dozenth time you've told us_.

Oh, and how could she forget? Hermione had received letters from her mother. They averaged about one a week. It was only a month or so after school started when Mrs. Selwyn sent her most important and frightening news, that she had found Hermione's father. Hermione hardy knew what to feel for her mother, (all she had in her distant memories was resentment for forcing her to move around) but her father was more of an enigma. He worked for Voldemort, so of course she disliked him... but she didn't know him at all. Her mother had a biased opinion of him, as did Harry and Ron, rightfully so...

But she didn't know him. She was going to- it made her stomach lurch- she was going to be staying at the Selwyn manor for the first time over the Winter Holidays, with both parents. She only told Draco about that part. Harry and Ron thought she was staying with the Malfoys. They didn't take to _that_ particularly well, but Draco even played along and later said it was probably better that her Gryffindor friends not get too involved with her family. In Slytherin, your family and close friends were everything. In Gryffindor, it was your values that came above all else. She only recognized the difference when Draco was speaking with her honestly.

"I know you don't know them, but your parents are the ones who choose to bring you into this world. They are your creators. And your parents, no matter how evil you may think they are, always want the best for you, they always want to protect you. You have to go see your father. He wants to see his little girl."

"Draco-" she had protested, feeling as if he didn't understand, even if logically she knew he was as close to understanding as anyone could be.

"I don't care what he is, who he followed, what he did. He loves you, Hermione. It is entirely possible he doesn't love your mother or his friends but he loves you. He wants to meet you. He was forced into Azkaban for almost fifteen years, he had to face the dementors, but now he's back and risking capture because he loves you. The least you can do in return is go to him. And your mother too, we both know she can be as obnoxious as mine but that's only because she would do anything in the world for her family- just like mine. And soon... we're all going to have to look out for one another. We can't rely on someone else standing up for us."

"I don't want to be dragged into this, Draco. I will not abandon my friends for people I barely know."

"Are you listening? They are your parents." He took her hands and smiled, which would have been romantic if Hermione hadn't been acutely aware of the damp basement floor they were sitting on. "They are going to be my parents, my family, our family. Darling, you have to learn to love them back."

She hadn't been sure he had called her darling in the funny way which he called her an assortment of pet names or in an actual romantic way. By the time she was boarding the train back to London, she had forgotten that little dillema. Draco was at her side as always, and her best friends had come to see her off.

"See you in two weeks," Ron said, hugging her tight. "And don't you dare...don't do anything with that little snake, 'Ermione. I don't like this at all."

"I'm not as dirty as you, Weasley."

"Draco," Hermione warned, irritated. "Let him worry. It'll keep us in check."

"It'll be boring here without you," Harry added, also giving her a hug. "Enjoy Christmas there. I'm sure it'll be grand."

Draco stared for a moment at the other boys, trying to decide what to do. He eventually decided on a small smile and a short, awkward wave before he and Hermione linked arms and boarded the train. They found a compartment alone, which wasn't as hard as it had been on the way up, since now there were less students. Hermione closed the door and sat on the same side as Draco.

"Do you like them?" Hermione asked, looking distantly out the window and caressing Emmeryn. The bird had signified it wanted to be free from it's cage the whole trip to the threstral carriages with high-pitched squawks. So, despite the weather, she had let it out on the carriage ride to the station.

"What do you mean? Like who?"

"Harry and Ron. You've been nicer to them this year. You're not making fun of them, at least not to their faces."

"They're you're friends, so I'm trying my best. If I had it my way you would have stopped hanging out with them completely, but I can't make that happen any more than you can make me stop being friends with Theo and Pansy."

"So?" She didn't hate Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson anymore. Theodore was as well-read as she; Pansy was cute, if a little immature.

"Isn't it obvious? No, I don't like them. Admittedly, I've found Potter is agreeable on his own. Weasley, though," Draco made a sound of disgusted hate, "I can't find any good qualities in him."

She sighed. Hermione realized she had hoped he would take to her friends.

"He's very kind. He's our heart," she smiled and explained further, "We like to say that Harry has the courage for the three of us, I've the brains, and Ron the heart. He is emotional and expressive and that makes his care for us so important. It's good to have a loving person around."

"I _would_ argue love is near worthless compared to courage or intelligence; you're basically telling me that Harry's the Gryffindor, you're the Raveclaw, and he's a flipping Hufflepuff. But I can't even agree with that. Where was that love for the first three weeks of school? He was cruel to you; he hurt you," Draco said, laying a hand on her arm. "And then he went back to being your friend when _he_ was done being upset, and expected you to take him in and treat him like before. He did this with Harry too, last year."

"How do you know anything about what happened with us last year?"

"It was pretty obvious. You three are always in the spotlight." Draco smirked a little. "Anyway, I don't want to talk about your dumb friends. I just want to enjoy some of the break with my pretty little fiancée." His bright, mischievous eyes glinted like light on sterling silver. Draco leaned toward her and she kissed him as they had countless times before. She hated the feeling in her gut when they found themselves intertwined like this. She hated how illogical the feeling was, but it had nothing to do with Draco, she was certain. She just didn't feel completely under control. Hermione always found herself pushing away, even if she had started it.


	9. Back at the Manor Part 1

"Oh, it looks so pretty on you! I can't believe it's finally happening."

"Thank you," said Hermione shyly, pulling her left hand from Narcissa's tight grasp. "We're both glad it worked out in the best way for everyone."

"Well, you took a little long getting the plans together," Narcissa said with a sharpness Hermione hadn't heard directed at her before.

"Mother," Draco interjected, saving Hermione from having to give a response, "she's very excited to be with her family again. As much as I'd like to keep her here as well, she should be allowed to go."

"You're right, Draco," his mother agreed, back to her sweet self. "Be careful, Hermione."

Draco kissed Hermione's cheek and they parted ways. Hermione heard someone sniggering behind her but ignored it, for Emmeryn chattered threateningly in their direction.

She took her luggage with her and paid for a handful of Floo powder to take her back home.

 _Home?_

"Selwyn Manor," she stated clearly, as her mother had instructed in the letter. The flames engulfed her and let her out in a dark, open room. Her mother, Nimbia, awaited her with a figure that could only have been Hermione's birth father.

He was a tall man, with wide shoulders and skin darker than Hermione's. At one time, he had clearly been a large, intimidating figure. But his chest and face were sunken in now, so he looked strangely disproportionate. His dark, heavy eyes were dull, like the eyes of a dead man.

And yet, when he met her gaze her father stood and gave her a broken smile. He spoke with a coarse voice.

"Hermione? I can barely remember..."

"Hello," she said back, awkwardly stepping out of the fireplace and into what appeared to be the living room.

"You're fifteen now. Fifteen. And you're so beautiful."

"Thank you." He hugged her with more warmth than she expected. She immediately felt guilty for having assumed her father to be a heartless villain. It was just as Draco said, he loved her, no matter what he had done or how he felt about anyone else, he clearly loved his daughter.

"I heard you liked to read now. I always dreamed you'd turn out to love learning as much as I. But we have so much to talk about. Two weeks is not long enough. Let's sit. Nimbia, won't you get something for us to eat?" Hermione's mother smiled and quietly left the room. Hermione sat down with her father and they talked. They talked, mostly about Hermione's life, until she was so exhausted she started yawning mid-sentence. Her parents showed her to a guest bedroom, (she had last been here when she was a year old, so "her" room was a pastel pink, and still had a crib and old toys in it) where she put all her luggage, let out Crookshanks, and caged Emmeryn before going to bed.

She walked through a faceless crowd on Diagon Alley. The engagement ring was a comforting presence, but the only comfort. The world was dark and closing in. Then she saw Narcissa. She glowed, with long blonde locks and a charming smile. Little golden cockatiels perched on her shoulders. Hermione felt a sense of déjà vu. Where was Emmeryn, her own little bird? Hermione moved towards Narcissa Malfoy, who offered a pure white balloon. Hermione took it; she had no choice.

And she began to float away. Hermione wasn't sure she wanted to. Unlike before, watching the world float away now was nauseating. She wanted to stay on Earth, where things could be controlled. Up here, she couldn't control anything. Pain of frustration coursed through her. She couldn't make herself stop flying. She couldn't do anything, she couldn't _control_ anything.

Cockatiels surrounded her menacingly.

"Emmeryn!" she cried, summoning her friend.

It worked. Emmeryn came from the same nowhere that the others had, and chased the strange cockatiels away. Then she fluttered around Hermione until she landed on a could as pure and white as her balloon. Draco Malfoy was waiting there for her. He smirked dangerously.

"Are you excited, Mudblood? Little muddy's excited... You're going to get what you always wanted, deep down."

She never got a chance to answer, because she woke up then. Hermione didn't want to face any more of that awful monster disguised as Draco. A memory of him bullying her was called up in her memory.

 _Mudblood._ He had said it so many times. But he had changed now, hadn't he? This was a different Draco Malfoy. But this was also a different Hermione. This was Hermione Selwyn, not Hermione Granger. Hermione Granger never existed, but if she had, she'd still be called that horrible name.

Once the sun burst out, Hermione decided it was a reasonable time to be awake and got herself dressed and to the kitchen. It wasn't as easy as it seemed, since she didn't know the layout of the house yet. Upon finding her way there, she saw her mother, already cooking. She was still a little surprised- in a good way- that they didn't have a house elf. It wasn't for moral reasons though, their last one just happened to have been killed in the war and they never found a replacement.

"What are you doing? It's early."

"If it's too early for me it's certainly too early for you, Hermione."

"Well, I just got up," she lied easily, "You're already cooking, though."

"Your father is awake too. He's in the library. Reading. Who knows what about, but I'm sure you'd like to join him?" Hermione shrugged. "It's down the East Hall." Her mother pointed in the appropriate direction as she said it.

Hermione supposed she'd better go and went off, got lost twice, but finally found it. The library was incredible, the biggest room in the manor she had seen yet, and it looked like it spanned two floors. Her father was reading a very old-looking book titled _Divination: The Past, Present, and Future_. Hermione scoffed, her opinion of the man immediately plummeting.

"Hermione?" He looked up at her and closed the book. "It's so nice to see you again. You could never imagine what it's like... the Dementors take every happy memory away. I couldn't even smile to think of you or your mother."

She felt extremely awkward, watching him get emotional. She had no idea what she was supposed to do. She still didn't now him.

"I'm sorry," she said, as honestly as she could.

"I should have known not to confess. I could have had a happy life with you if I had just told them I was forced to do it. It's my fault our home is falling apart as much as this family."

"You confessed?"

"Yes, I couldn't lie, Hermione. I thought I deserved what I did for going against Wizarding Law."

Hermione blinked a few times, keeping silent, trying to understand. He was a Death Eater. He likely killed people. Yet he wanted to stay honest? He respected Wizarding Law?

"Father, how could you side with You-Know-Who and still... It's hypocritical."

"It was wrong of me to value morals over family. I should have lied. But I was young and witless. All I had then were my books and my morals I learned from them. I didn't have enough experience to know that family and tradition must come before anything else. I've missed almost half my life, I missed almost all of yours."

"Why would you join them anyway? He's evil! You-Know-Who murdered and tortured innocent people! Why would anyone want to be a part of that?"

"Have you seen the facts? The Mudbloods are weaker, dumber, it's all been proven. They need to stay with their own kind as much as they can. And the Muggles and Squibs ought to be wiped out completely. History shows that they will revolt and they will try to extinguish us. If you read as much as you say-"

"I do read, and none of that nonsense is proven! It's biased and- and racist! Why can't you see that?" Hermione's calm demeanor was gone.

"This isn't race, Hermione. If it was race, we'd be on the bottom, and unfairly so! But this is blood, this is genetics, this is generations and generations of magic against a random mutation. It all makes sense, it's biology."

"Funny, that's what they said about us."

"The Dark Lord personally released me from Azkaban. He let me come back to my family and I am forever grateful. I will serve him again, forever, as I swore to him many years ago. I hope you can see my point of view." Hermione shook her head, disappointed.

"No, I never will. I never want to see from your eyes. I never want to empathize with a murderer."

"I never killed anyone! I made sure to never kill!"

"Well I'm glad you have some standards. You can't kill and you can't lie, but everything else for you was fair game. You-Know-Who killed plenty. The people around you were murderers, and they probably did it in front of you, too. I'm sure you tortured people, you helped facilitate murders, you kidnapped, you did horrible things. Even if all you did was watch others do it, you're still a monster! No Death Eater was innocent." She left the library in anger, her body high with adrenaline. She went into the living room quickly, found the stash of Floo Powder in a vase, and was gone before they heard her say her destination.


	10. Back at the Manor Part 2

"Merlin!" cried Narcissa, jumping when Hermione had suddenly appeared in their fireplace. She had been sitting nearby, in the dining area, eating a small cup of yogurt mindlessly. How very Narcissa.

"I can't stay with my parents." Hermione said, stepping out and looking very upset.

"Oh, sweetheart, what happened? Do you need Draco?" she put down her yogurt and stood before Hermione could protest. "Draco! Draco Lucius Malfoy!" She was off, walking quickly around the house to find her son. Hermione stood, waiting. She didn't want to see Draco, really, she just knew the Malfoys would take her in and it was the only place she could think of going to in her rage.

"Hermione's here! I think she needs you!" Hermione heard Narcissa saying loudly in another part of the mansion. She came down the stairs nearby (it looked odd, since Hermione had not seen her go up the stairs, but she knew the Malfoy Manor had three sets of stairs to the second story. "He was asleep. He'll be here any minute though, he's just getting dressed." Narcissa came over and kissed her forehead affectionately. "I know how it can be being seperated. If you have to stay here I'll arrange it with your mother, alright?" She paused and asked her next question in a low whisper. "You're not with child, are you?"

"No, no, definitely not, we haven't even...no." She shook her head, a little disturbed.

"I'm just making sure; we have our families' reputations at stake, here." She went back over to her yogurt and sat down. "You can come sit too, you don't need to stand there."

"No, I'm fine," Hermione said dumbly.

It wasn't too long before Draco came down, dressed a little nicer than usual, and greeted her, looking a bit surprised.

"What Is there something wrong? Is it your parents?" He saw her look and tried to decipher it. "I told you to give them a chance. It's been one day."

"It's horrible. If I stay there I'll be miserable. The house is uncared for, my father is... I just can't be there. Can I stay with you?"

"Hermione, you have to go back."

"I can't!"

"They're your family!" He grabbed her arms tightly, staring her hard in the eyes.

"And they are monsters, Draco! The worst kind of people!" Hermione spat, shaking him away.

"Did he hit you?"

"What? No, he didn't-"

"Did he not let you eat? Were you not allowed a place to sleep? Did he hurt your mother?"

"No!"

"Well I met your mother, and she's very sweet. It sounds to me like your father isn't that bad either. Hermione, you're going back. Your father is going to want this chance to be with you."

"I don't care what he wants. He hates Muggles and Muggleborns and he's a Death Eater, through and through. I can't live with that, Draco. I knew it was coming, but I can't."

"In that case, we might want to rethink this marriage."

Narcissa gasped dramatically.

"Draco!" she hissed. He didn't even look at her. He was caught in Hermione's quivering lips, her eyes that started to gloss over. He was too focused in his own thoughts to hear her shout something at him.

"Maybe we should!"

He shouted back without knowing what he was saying.

"Do you know _anything_ about my family?!"

Hermione let her tears flow and was about to scream something back, but Narcissa Malfoy had grabbed her son and pulled him away into the dining room. Hermione just cied, glaring at Draco, angry that he couldn't spare her an ounce of sympathy. Hermione couldn't hear them talking, though that hadn't stopped her from trying.

"Oh, it's just the Selwyn girl." Hermione jumped and saw Draco's father on the stairs, looking quite annoyed. "It's a bit early for a visit."

Narcissa and Draco stood up, even though they were not yet visible. Hermione, embarrassed, wiped her face with the sleeve of her dark sweater.

"Yes, I wanted to see if I could stay here," she said bravely.

"And that devolved into an argument?"

"Yes. Draco got upset because I-"

 _Oh._ She had been thinking too much about herself, about how things affected her. She realized now how everything she had said about her father would have sounded to someone in the same situation. By rejecting her dad, she was rejecting Draco's as well.

"Speak, girl. What did you do, exactly, that upset him enough that you both had to resort to screaming?"

Draco came in, still upset at Hermione, judging by the way he looked at her.

"I'm sorry we woke you, father. It won't happen again. I will make sure that she is taken care of."

Hermione was offended by the way he callously referred to her as if she wasn't in the room at all, but kept quiet.

"She needs to be out before dinnertime." Lucius said. It sounded like a warning. Draco nodded and took Hermione's hand to lead her past his father and upstairs to his room. He didn't say anything until his door was closed. The room was familiar and smelled like the strangest week of summer she ever had. Not much had changed.

"Hermione."

"What? What did you take me up here for?"

"You're really bad at reading people."

"Yeah, I'm no Legilimens. I thought that was established a while back."

"I want to marry you, but you have got to get over the Death Eater thing."

"Oh, oh! Get over the Death Eater thing? Really? Yeah, I'll just get over the murdering thing. I just have to _get over_ the damn Death Eater thing. I should just not even care about Voldemort-"

"Hermione!" He warned, tensing up.

"-is that it? Genocide, torture, oh, who cares? It's _family_ , right, as long as they love their children they are redeemable? You just can't face the fact that your dad is one of the worst people in the world."

"Don't, Hermione, don't you-"

"I will. I will talk about your father because your father would have gladly killed me if he still thought I was a muggleborn and you would have continued your relentless bullying. Now Voldemort is back and-"

"Stop. Stop saying the name."

"You're a little coward."

"Are we going to be able to stop fighting right now?"

"Yes, if you admit that your father is evil, you're a little coward, and that it's reasonable to be terrified of my life right now."

"I'm not going to say that."

Instead, Draco kissed her and pulled off her sweater. Hermione stopped him there, pushing him away.

"What in the world are you doing?" she snapped.

"We're not going to agree. I just thought this would be better than arguing."

He reached around her and unzipped her dress and let it create a pool of fabric at her feet. Hermione wasn't sure whether she was excited by the spontaneity or not. Probably not, but she went with it anyway. Hermione kissed him aggressively while unbuttoning his vest and shirt. She felt his chest, which was harder now because he'd been playing quidditch during the school year.

"This is different," he said pleasantly when she let him go. He was obviously surprised she hadn't pushed him away yet.

"I have to put some effort in. I'm still angry, just so you know." Hermione was fairly certain he wasn't listening. She grabbed his chin. "Stop staring. You've see me like this before."

"That was six months ago."

"Try three. I can still leave, Draco."

"Yeah, but...I love you. I think about you all the time. I _dream_ about you."

Hermione had also seen Draco in her dreams, but that was different. He'd been calling her a Mudblood and telling her he knew what she wanted. Wanted? That seemed so obvious. It was the one emotion she couldn't control, it was the reason she didn't slap Draco's face hard enough to draw blood when he started undressing her without her explicit consent and the reason she liked the way her hand felt on his chest at that very moment. _Sex._

"Of course," Hermione said, drawing away.

"What is it with you? I mean it, Hermione."

"I know you do, I'm sorry, I'm just confused again. We're only fifteen and we're acting like adults. How can we do this? We're still children."

"Why does it matter? It doesn't matter if we love each other."

Hermione hugged him around the neck and whispered shakily.

"I'm scared because... my body... I think I want to have sex with you."

There was a pause. Draco was clearly not expecting that.

"You know we can't until we're married, right? It's just a rule, we can't-"

"I know that!" she said, much too loudly. "I know we can't, I just needed to tell you. It's bugging me all the time and now my father..."

He kissed her until she felt better, and then they talked, kissed some more, and finally got dressed before getting in one last passionate, tongue-filled kiss Hermione knew Ron would disapprove of.

"Alright, no more coming back here, dearest. Unless you want to surprise me on Christmas, I don't want to see you until January 3rd, on the platform. I have to know that you can get along with your parents. If you can't, you won't be able to get along with mine. I love my parents; I don't want to pick sides."

"Okay, okay, I'll get along. I'll just ignore them if that's what it takes."

It was easier said than done.


	11. Christmas

Thank you all for the support! Special shout-out to my followers (There's 42 of you! Wow!) and for the kind reviews from lakelady8425 and saillorgemini. This chapter is by no means my best, but I figured I had to just get it out, like I did the others. I don't want the expectations high. Thanks again all!

Just a little note: I wanted to name the house elf in this chapter "Tilley" but decided at the last minute to keep her unnamed. I figured there were already a lot of new names (Emmeryn, Nimbia, Ouranos) but if anyone thinks otherwise, let me know and I'll put the name back in.

* * *

"You're back. Your father was worried about you." Hermione smiled weakly to her worried mother.

"I thought I'd better give father another chance."

"That's good, because he's leaving around five. Important business, he said, he'll be missing dinner. You'll better go find him in the library- oh, but do you want breakfast? It's a little cold now, I'm afraid."

"No, I'm fine. Thank you."

Hermione smiled graciously and walked down to the library without getting lost this time. Her father was still reading the divination book. He looked up to see her and put it down.

"Hermione, I'm sorry I upset you. I should have respected your opinions." Hermione just nodded, hoping to avoid any sort of argument. All she had to do was get through it. "Is there anything you want to know?"

"What about your school years? I've heard nothing about that."

"Oh, I was a normal kid. I was raised in this manor by both my parents and went to Hogwarts. I was sorted into Ravenclaw, a small disappointment for a family that was traditionally all Slytherins." He caught himself there and quickly added, "Your house at Hogwarts is a very personal thing."

Hermione didn't really care to hear him trying to win her over by accepting the fact that she was in Gryffindor. She didn't need him to accept her. She was who she was. Thankfully, he began talking about himself again.

"I liked to lose myself in my books and studies, so I fit in there. Made a few friends, but not many. I only got a social life in the later half of my years at Hogwarts." Ouranos lost himself in the past for a second and went quiet.

"Well? What happened fourth year?" Hermione asked, only the tiniest bit curious.

"I got engaged to your mother, met her peers. They say Slytherin is where you meet your true friends for a reason." Her interest faded.

"Hmm."

"We hadn't met before we knew we'd be joining families, but we made it work, as we all do. Any two people can get along if they put in the effort. It's no wonder to me that you got engaged to the first man your mother had you set up with. You have a kind heart."

"Maybe."

 _Maybe_ what, she thought, questioning her own retort. He was actually making sense, Draco could have been anyone, and the same thing would have happened. They didn't have some kind of chemistry, they just made it work to avoid any more trouble for the both of them.

Whatever. Hermione wasn't very fond of her father. Over the next few days she would read in the library, but if she talked to him they'd start arguing at best an hour later. Then one of them would go back to their room and read alone. He was always gone at dinner for reasons never explained, but that hardly helped the stress. Hermione would have left the manor if she had somewhere else to go. Draco would've yelled at her for leaving if she went to him, and the only other magical places she could think of was the Burrow and the Black Family Home. She doubted she was going to feel welcome at either, since both Harry and Ron were still at school.

Christmas, at least was nice. On the night of Christmas Eve, the manor was as much of a disaster as it had been when she first arrived there, but somehow Hermione awoke to something magical.

Colored lights had been strung in the hallways, a wreath was hanging on her doorway, and silver tinsel was wrapped along the stair rails. As Hermione walked curiously towards down the hall to the stairway, she saw a few gold and silver vases of live red poinsettias. Downstairs, in the high-ceilinged living room, stood a tall, proud tree. Lights and ornaments sparkled on it's thin, silver-green branches, and a mountain of presents wrapped gorgeously in red, green, silver, blue, and gold filled the space below.

Hermione was in awe at the setup. She waited at the tree for a while, then woke up when her mother came downstairs without realizing she had fallen asleep in the first place.

"Oh... How did you do this?" Hermione asked while slowly rising.

"I had help. Your father will be down any minute. Did you open anything?"

Hermione shook her head. Maybe the spoiled Selwyn girl she was meant to be would have opened her Christmas gifts before her parents even woke up.

As Nimbia said, Hermione's father came down not long after she did. Hermione thanked them for making Christmas for her when they were still trying to piece their lives together. They were happy to see they had such a gracious daughter.

Hermione received over three dozen books, most of them being wizarding storybooks, and clothes just as nice as the ones she had gotten from the Malfoys. Her father explained that she might feel more a part of the wizarding world if she had the stories she would've grown up with. Her mother, cheerily, said she needed more "normal" clothes in case they ever had to make an appearance.

Then, after Hermione had thrown out her piles of wrapping paper, her parents told her they had gotten a house elf- her father was cautious about the way he said it, but Hermione was still going to lecture them. Slavery was slavery. But then it was explained that the house elf was going to be paid 2 Galleons a week and have a month's worth of vacation. Of course, it was still an outrage. Hermione thought of giving the poor creature one of the more gaudy garments she received. Yet... she didn't. Once she met the sweet house elf in dusky lavender rags, she couldn't bring herself to free her. Surely she would not get better treatment anywhere else. And it was pretty evident that she had only received special treatment because Hermione had voiced her opinions to her father.

Hermione had kind of hoped that Draco would come visit her on Christmas, as he had hinted, or maybe that their families would have dinner together, but they did not. She didn't see him until she was headed back to Hogwarts in early January.

Hogwarts would be a relief. But Hermione received something else at the station: news. Narcissa had solidified the date of their wedding. She was so overwhelmed she hadn't waited for Draco to finish greeting her.

"March 30th! Right before Easter, so you'll all be on break."

Hermione mentally curse her for breaking off the hug that was about to become a little more.

"What is?" Hemione asked as Draco moved away from her awkwardly.

"The wedding, dear. The wedding. It's March 30th."

"It is a bit confusing when you scream out the date like that," Draco said, looking a little irritated too.

"Do not talk to me that way!" Narcissa sounded offended. "This is for you. You know that I do this all for you. As soon as I get back home it's back to organizing _your_ wedding. I expect better than that." She didn't wait for a response. "I'll see you two in March. Write me if you can." She turned away and left very quickly.

"That was str-" Hermione started, but was interrupted by Draco's very sudden movement. She was in a kiss, and once she realized that she returned it. A criticism in Lavender Brown's voice called out "Get a room!", but she did her damndest to ignore it and just enjoy her minute with him.

"God, I never thought I'd miss you, the know-it-all, stuck up word-I'm-not-allowed-to-say-apparently who hangs around Potter."

"Are you trying to be romantic?"

"I'm making up for yelling at you and not visiting at all."

"I thought we already made up for the yelling?"

"I didn't know we acknowledged that happened. Are we going to talk about the week before school now too?"

She thought to hit him, but instead pretended not to hear and put her suitcases at the back of the train as always. She was hiding the stupidest grin. In the back of her mind, she knew her own awful secret. Nothing made being around Draco feel bad. Not their parents, not the other students, not even the various forms of racism she had to be exposed to. She was a filthy, spoiled pureblood, and she was smiling.


	12. Tears

_Not again._

Faceless people pushed past her, bumping into her back and shoulders. Her body was aching. She couldn't stop them, she couldn't stop herself.

Narcissa, with her bright aura, stood out from the crowd. She wore a gentle smile wordlessly as always. Cockatiels rested on her shoulders neatly in a row. Hermione moved steadily forward. Each step took her closer. She knew what was going to happen, but she didn't want to keep the pattern going. She would change something this time, just as she had to get past the cockatiels in the first place.

"Why do you let your birds attack me?" Hermione asked, accusingly, as Narcissa handed her the white balloon. She did not answer. Hermione began to float away. She sighed, discouraged but not defeated. "Emmeryn!" she called. Her olive cockatiel flew to her from the sky-void surrounding her. When the other birds came, Emmeryn fought them off, giving Hermione the chance to reach her next obstacle.

Draco Malfoy stood on the cloud she had landed on. He wore a smug smirk and laughed rudely as her looked her over.

"Are you excited, Mudblood? Little muddy's excited... You're going to get what you always wanted, deep down."

"No, you're not real. You don't even know me." Hermione tried to make herself look powerful. Draco cackled.

"I know more about you than you do."

"Obviously not! I'm a pureblood!"

He raised his eyebrows.

"I guess you're right. You're a pureblood, in body _and_ mind."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She was getting frustrated. Was it even possible to make this fake Draco shut up?

"You're just like them. You're going to be exactly like all the good pureblood girls with their death eater husbands. You'll have his children and you'll try to protect them, but you won't be able to. They'll be as corrupted as the rest of them."

"You're not making sense!"

She heard giggling. The dream faded away, and then all she saw was the pulsing red back of her eyelids. She heard Lavender and Parvati nearby, whispering and cackling. Hermione opened her eyes and sent them a lethal stare. They had been oogling her from Lavender's bed, as he suspected.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Lavender asked, sounding half concerned. "You were mumbling in your sleep. Something about Malfoy."

"It was only a nightmare," she hissed.

"Sorry, we were only concerned." The sass in Lavender's voice was not appreciated or necessary. They were not "concerned". If they were concerned they would have woken her up. Instead they had probably been speculating on Hermione's intimate desires.

Hermione rolled her eyes and got dressed, then headed to breakfast, trying to push away the thought that the girls' guesses probably weren't too far from the truth. She blamed that stupid dream for making her later than usual to the Great Hall.

She didn't want to eat with Draco today. She'd instead rather pretend they hated each other, that everything was normal, so she could sit with Harry and Ron at the Gryffindor table. She loved him, but for she wanted to be around people she could complain to. Draco was already waiting for her. She didn't have the heart to tell him.

 _Who am I?_ Hermione thought to herself all day.

During Potions class she was so occupied with herself that she nearly forgot to add the powdered dragon horn to her invigoration draught. Draco fixed it for her, and Professor Snape pretended not to see anything, but she was embarrassed by the whole situation she nearly cried. Nothing went right for her anymore.

At dinner she sat with Harry and Ron.

"The break was horrible," Hermone complained. "Draco yelled at me for hating my birth parents when I was an emotional wreck, my father turned out to be horribly racist, oh, and we got a house elf. A house elf. After I lectured father about my views on enslaving them!"

"Your father showed up at the Malfoys?" Ron asked.

"No, why-" She remembered her lie to them. God, she was such an idiot. Now what would she do? Correct the whole story? Then she'd have to explain why she lied about staying with her parents in the first place. It would sound like she either didn't trust them or was betraying them. Exactly what she had been avoiding.

"Hello? Hermione, you're completely out of it." Ron was waving his hand in front of her face and she very suddenly came back to reality.

"I don't know who I am," she whined. The boys, thinking she needed time alone, didn't talk much to her for the rest of dinner. They became engaged in the wrongness of something Professor Umbridge had done. _Was she that bad?_ Hermione disliked her, sure, but she hadn't been paying attention in class much, nor listening to the stories passed along. Who cared about the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor? She was going to be married in a few months.

"Hey Harry-" she started as they were leaving the hall, "Could I borrow your Invisibility cloak tonight?"

"What do you need it for?" Harry asked, looking slightly taken aback.

"Sneaking out to see Malfoy?" added Ron, jokingly. She took it to be more negative than he had intended. Hermione teared up and began walking at twice her usual speed.

She purposefully took the wrong flight of stairs, still near crying. She didn't make eye contact with anyone, just let her feet take her wherever they wanted. Hermione soon found herself in the DADA tower, outside Professor McGonagall's office. She knocked weakly on the door.

"Come in," said the familiar voice. Hermione entered and closed the door behind her. "Sit down." McGonagall offered a smile. Hermione sat. McGonagall was not at her desk, but she was nearby, brewing tea. Hermione was silent until McGonagall came back to her desk.

"What is the matter?" her house head asked gently.

Hermione cried. She _sobbed_. She let the pain of the day, the awkwardness of coming back to Hogwarts yesterday, the horror of the past two weeks, the changes that plagued the past three months- she let everything out. Each drop that escaped her took a part of her negativity away. When she was finished, McGonagall handed her a box of tissues wordlessly. Hermione dried her face, and then she explained.

"I feel like I don't know who I am anymore. I can't relate to anyone."

McGonagall waited a moment, like she was trying to find the best way to comfort her.

"Growing up is hard for everyone."

"Everything is changing. I'm so alone."

"You've never been alone. You have so many friends. Everyone in your year in Gryffindor admires you, I can see it."

"Harry and Ron don't even know me. I don't know me! I thought I was Hermione Granger."

McGonagall shook her head.

"Your name doesn't change who you are. You're brilliant and strong-willed as ever." Hermione knew she had to say these things, because they weren't true. She wasn't strong anymore. The part of her which stubbornly valued herself and ignored passing remarks had been broken by her weakness. Her weakness being the ability to care for someone no matter their past. It was Draco Malfoy, no way around it. Wearing his ring, being _his_ and feeling good about it made her pathetic; her love for someone who had hurt her for so long was pathetic.

Hermione cried some more, though not as loudly, and she talked through her tears with a weak, scratchy voice.

"I'm not! I... love him."

"You love who, dear? Your fiancé?'

"How did you know?" Hermione grabbed her own left hand, feeling the ring there.

"I know nearly everything about my students." McGonagall smiled again, and calmly offered her advice. "You have to remember that the past is gone and there is a lot you need to watch out for in the present. I've been worrying about you. His family is suspected of being involved with You-Know-Who, and I, for one, believe Mr. Potter when he says he saw his return. That's a dangerous mix I hope you can avoid; It may not be to late."

"I can't call off the wedding now, Professor!"

"No, I would never advise that. But you can save him."


	13. One of Them

McGonagall had explained to Hermione that she was one of the few people who could prevent Draco from following in his father's footsteps.

She wasn't sure how that was supposed to make her feel better.

But it did.

McGonagall also told her that she may find comfort in talking to Professor Snape. He apparently had worked with many students going through the arranged marriage process before, especially during fifth year while preparing for the O.W.L.s. Professor McGonagall gave her a pass to his room in case she decided to take that opportunity. Hermione thanked her for listening and giving her the opportunity to stabilize herself. Then she left, quickly, to her dorm and fell right asleep, even though she hadn't felt tired before.

Hermione sort of regained herself after that. She told Harry and Ron the next day that they would be receiving formal invitations to her wedding soon, since a date was now set. They aknowledged it, but all they seemed to talk about now was Dumbledore's Army, which she had hardly been a part of. She'd spent the year studying, planning her damn wedding, and trying to figure out how to make her pureblood life work. Rebelling against a DADA teacher was not in her top priorities.

Because of that, Hermione found herself spending more and more time with Draco and his friends. After she got out of the feeling of self-deprecation, she realized that his friends understood her life in a way Harry and Ron couldn't. By the end of January she regularly sat at the Slytherin table and could have just as well been wearing green and silver. She didn't want to go back this time.

She felt in control now. She owned her image. Hermione hissed like a Slytherin whenever Lavender Brown made some passing comment, and she just stopped talking to Harry and Ron as much. She missed them, but it was getting harder to hold on and she just didn't care as much. Why try when it didn't get her anywhere? She had always preferred reading in the library to going on ridiculous adventures. Now she would read in the library and hang out in a corner with Draco, Daphne Greengrass, and Theodore Nott all reading near her.

She learned to like the Slytherins more than before. Everyone had something to add. Blaise Zabini was a great conversation, he was charismatic and had a way of rephrasing things to make them sound better. Pansy Parkinson, while ridiculous at times, was full of the kind of energy and love most would expect from a Hufflepuff. Millicent Bulstrode was the maternal figure of the house, spending her time mostly making sure the younger years all felt accepted and stayed out of trouble. Theodore was quiet but the most observant and intelligent boy her age; he was great for a debate. Daphne was sweet, if a little feminine, and worked diligently to keep up with all her classes before doing anything else.

 _Slytherin is where you make your true friends_. She had thought it sounded vaguely cultish, and perhaps it was, but if so she was now embraced and supported but the cult that was Slytherin house, and she loved it. In every hallway she had allies that looked out for her. Hermione would return the favor as well. They really were misunderstood. These were nice people; they could create an extraordinary amount of good. Her own house couldn't see that. None of the other houses could.

On Valentines Day, the Slytherins invited Hermione to their common room that night to participate in the house-wide party. At first she thought for sure it was a joke.

"You all celebrate Valentine's Day together?" She asked Draco. They were talking at the Slytherin table, having breakfast before classes.

"Yeah, of course. It's not just trading chocolate frogs. It's more of a normal party; it brings us together," he explained. Pansy chimed in.

"Draco and I vouched for you when we prefects were planning, so you're allowed to come. We really hope you do. It's going to be great. I can't say anything else, but you should make an effort to show."

"You do know that's against the rules?" Hermione said, holding back a grin.

"That's what I said," Theodore added.

"She's one of us," argued Draco defensively.

"I'll be there, but you have to lead me in," said Hermione in a very final sort of way. Draco kissed her cheek in answer, which Pansy found cause for cheer.

The Valentine's party was as great as Pansy had built it up to be. They had two chocolate fountains, all sorts of food from the kitchens, (including the sweets left over from dinner) and a few groups of people playing various party games. Draco never found reason to leave her side. At midnight, the Slytherin Head Girl paused the festivities to congratulate all the couples who had gotten engaged that year. Hermione was shocked to see Pansy herself was one of them, and to Ernie Macmillion, a pureblood Hufflepuff, of all people.

She playfully preformed the signature Slytherin hiss when the Head Girl mentioned her and Draco. When the Head Girl finished, everyone began to chant: " _Slytherin! Slytherin! Slytherin!_ ". Hermione joined in with only a little hesitation, and when it finished she couldn't help but kiss her fiancé squarely on the lips. She stayed up with the Slytherins until daybreak. Later she told those who asked that she had been talking with Professor McGonagall about the O.W.L.s, and told Professor McGonagall that she was talking to Professor Snape. She never did get in trouble for that one.

When it came time for all the students to leave for Spring Break, Hermione carefully scanned those getting into the threstral carriages to see if any of her friends would be coming. She figured they wouldn't. Even if she hadn't abandoned everyone for the Slytherin crowd, her and Draco's parents were still Death Eaters, and Harry and Ron knew that her father was around, if only vaguely. When she thought of it logically, inviting them was really just a formality.

"Looking for someone?" asked Draco, sensing the oncoming rush of disappointment he was going to have to deal with when her friends didn't show.

"I don't know," she answered.

"You barely talk to Potter and Weasley anymore, if that's it."

"I _know_."

"I don't want you to get upset."

Hermione just huffed and went quiet. She caught a glimpse of orangey hair- but it could have been anyone. She stopped looking and got in her carriage with Draco.

"Hey, 'Ermione!" Her stomach turned with excitement that felt like terror. "Would it be weird if I joined you?"

"No, please do." Hermione said as she helped Ron in, her face glowing. "You're going home for break?" Draco looked surprised and a little impressed.

"Yeah, my Mum thought it'd be best if I went home for a bit. None of my brothers are going, but It's no big deal," Ron hesitated. "I'm still invited to the wedding, right?"

"Of course you are, Ron. I thought you hated me."

"We thought you hated us. Harry was going to come too, he even had this stupid line he was going to say, something like 'Doing anything over break?' and then when you answered he'd say he was going to a wedding, but I'd never be able to pull that off. Anyway, you really should just talk to us. For a few weeks there we were convinced you were mental, 'til Malfoy-" Ron stopped. "Well, we realized you must still care a little. But Harry decided he didn't want to risk going somewhere where there could be Death Eaters, so he asked me to get a bunch of pictures for him."

"I didn't expect that from you, Weasley," Draco said approvingly.

"You just complemented him?"

"It's a miracle," Ron murmured. "Someone alert the Ministry: I got a complement from Malfoy."

"You do realize it's strange to call him that now, right?" Hermione laughed, flushing amber red. "I'll soon be a Malfoy too."

Draco kissed her for that, making her turn darker. Ron involuntarily contorted his face in disgust.

"Alright, alright, I get the idea. I don't want to see you at it, thanks,"

"That was really nothing," Draco said defensively, a bit amused.

"We have to kiss at the ceremony too," Hermione joked. Ron just shook his head and wondered if he'd regret coming.


	14. Wedding

Ron tried to get her alone a few times during the train ride to King's Cross Station, but Hermione refused each time. He had a slightly jealous air about him that had her reasonably certain Ron only came so he might have a chance at wining her over. Emmeryn was not pleased with him either- in fact, she managed to eventually chase Ron out, and again later when he came back. Emmeryn only confirmed Ron was not working under completely innocent intent. Hermione never voiced her distrust, of course.

The three of them went their separate ways once they got off the Hogwarts Express. Hermione was overjoyed to get home, to see the dress Pansy had helped her pick out during the first month of school... She even hugged her parents when she arrived in the now-clean manor. Everything was going well.

The three days of break went by so fast Hermione couldn't remember what had happened. All she knew was what happened the morning of March 30th.

Hermione's mother woke her up at seven. Hermione had two apple pancakes for breakfast, which she graciously thanked her house elf for. She left with her mother at 8:30, taking the floo network to Malfoy Manor. She saw Draco briefly, who looked as excited as she felt. Her mother took her to a room to help her get ready.

Hermione nearly had a panic attack when she saw some of her Slytherin friends there waiting for her to act as her bridesmaids. She had assumed she wouldn't have any, not having many girlfriends. Hermione thanked them- Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, ("But you're getting married in two days!" Hermione cried in disbelief) Daphne's younger sister by two years, and Millicent Bulstrode all greeted her with smiles and, with the guidance of Hermione and her mother, got her into her dress, did her makeup, and even managed to tame her naturally curly hair. They managed to pull a majority of her into a tight bun. Tiny ringlet strands that weren't caught in the bun hung loose and framed her face beautifully.

The mirror showed Hermione Selwyn, a young woman very different from the little girl of one year ago. With her big brown eyes, her gorgeous Selwyn hair and her mature, feminine figure, Hermione could only stare. The floor-length ballgown was not the most comfortable, especially with its inlaid corset, but it gave her such elegance. God, she was stunning

"Thank you," Hermione whispered, almost squeaking.

"It's your day," Millicent said, admiring their work as well. "You deserve it."

But they couldn't stay long. They left her to change into her own dresses, so it was now just Hermione and her mother.

"What time is it?"

"Nearly ten."

She had already felt exhausted, but now... thirty minutes until she had to go out there and the ceremony would begin. She would be married. To Draco Malfoy.

No.

She would be Hermione Malfoy.

 _Hermione Malfoy, Hermione Malfoy, Hermione Malfoy, Hermione Malfoy_.

She had alrready said the name to herself in a myriad of different ways, but after this that name wouldn't just be in her head.

 _Hermione Malfoy, Hermione Malfoy, Hermione Malfoy._

Hermione's mother put on her veil.

"Your father will come get you in a few minutes. Just wait here, try not to do much."

Hermione nodded. Time was moving too fast.

 _She was going to be Hermione Malfoy_.

Her father came in, he took her arm, led her outside. It was as beautiful as she had hoped. The garden had been completely redone, now filled with white roses and pink carnations like that of her bouquet. A raised altar had been made at the center of the garden, and her aisle was a stone path. A cage hung at the altar with two paired doves as well; she knew exactly whose idea that had been.

Hermione took a few seconds to scan the decently-sized crowd. Draco had clearly brought more family than she had, and they didn't have 'sides' so she had difficulty finding her people. She saw that her birth mother sat in the front row, along with her muggle parents. That was good enough.

Draco was waiting at the altar, smiling, watching her. Hermione's ears buzzed and her thoughts flashed by very quickly as she walked down the aisle.

 _I am going to be Hermione Malfoy. Draco Malfoy is going to be my husband. I am going to be Draco's wife. I am going to be a wife. We are going to have children and raise a family together._

She found herself at the edge of the altar. Her father pulled back her veil and she was allowed to stand at Draco's side. She handed her bouquet to Pansy for the moment. Draco took her hands and lovingly stared into her eyes. Hadn't she considered this to be a terrible fate before?

The officiant, a man who looked older than Dumbledore himself, was saying something, but she could hardly hear it. Hermione thought about Draco's silvery eyes for quite a while, until her ears stopped ringing and suddenly he was saying "I do" with confidently. It was really happening.

"Hermione Jean Selwyn, do you take Draco Malfoy to be your wedded husband under wizard law?'

"I do," she said proudly. Draco presented her ring and put it on her as he spoke with admirable conviction.

"As the heir to the Malfoy name, I swear to you, Hermione Selwyn, my complete and undivided love. I swear all my self to you, from this day forward, for all our mortal days and beyond. With this vow I take you to be my wife and my closest companion, no matter what challenges we may ever face."

She was tearing up. She was sure her voice would be shaking when she spoke next. Her right hand surely was- it was going to be a struggle not to drop his wedding band.

"And I, Hermione Selwyn, take you, Draco Malfoy, to be my wedded husband. I promise to cherish each moment with you, for better or for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, for all eternity hereafter."

She had wanted to keep a mostly traditional Catholic vow, though her mother corrected her last sentence only a few days ago. Traditional wizarding marriages did not end at death. Eternity was fine by her; she didn't actually believe in an afterlife, so it was all the same.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife; you may kiss the bride."

They kissed gently- yet Draco held her a few seconds longer than necessary, signifying, in a way, the passion they felt roaring inside them. Everyone was smiling and clapping, the bridesmaids and groomsmen cheered. When they separated, Pansy handed Hermione back her bouquet. Draco took her arm and led her inside, where the reception would be held.

The crowd would soon follow to begin eating, But Narcissa took the newlyweds back out and to her greenhouse for pictures. Dozens of songbirds and parrots were in large cages there, along with a few flowering plants. It was nearly an hour later when they entered the manor, and now there was food and lots of people she felt uncomfortable being around.

Social gatherings were not Hermione's cup of tea, but Draco stayed with her all day and he was _amazing_ at manipulating a conversation. Hermione talked to Ron a bit; he showed her the pictures he got of her. Her muggle parents were a little confused, but glad to still be a part of her life, however small. Draco's family members ranged from annoying to legitimately insane, with the exception of Narcissa, who was only a little grating but mostly sweet.

There was food available all afternoon, but the newlyweds didn't each much. She tossed her bouquet, (Millicent was grinning for a good fifteen minutes when she caught it) there was some dancing, but all in all it flew by like the rest of the day.

The reception ended around six. Narcissa had Hermione and Draco help her clean up the party, along with her birth parents. Hermione's mother not-so-subtly suggested that Narcissa see how nice their manor looked, and _maybe_ stay the night. Hermione was sort of excited for the best part of being married, but she also wanted to gag a little at the hint that she and Draco would be consummating their marriage in a few hours. It was, perhaps, the planned nature of it, or maybe the fear of the unknown.


	15. Red Cockatiel Feathers

Time resumed to normal speed when it was over. Her hair was a mess again, her clothes lied in a defeated heap next to Draco's on the floor, and she was physically and mentally exhausted. Only one thing felt off.

"You still don't find it weird sleeping in your parents' bed?" she asked, her voice a little coarse. Hermione turned to face him and wrapped both her legs around one of his.

"No, not really." Draco smiled. He let his hand rest on her thigh. "They don't live here anymore; the manor is ours."

"Are you serious?" She moved closer and he adjusted by sliding his hand up to her waist.

"Yes, the manor is ours. My parents will probably move in with my grandparents on father's side. That's the tradition, anyways. I am the head of the Malfoy house now, so I get all the things that go with it."

"Is that legal? I mean, we're still underage."

"Legal? Dearest, I've told you a dozen times. We're purebloods. It's tradition. Didn't you read that genealogy book mother gave you?"

"I hardly touched it," Hermione admitted. "I'm not interested in your traditions, to be honest. I just like _you_."

"Of course. I love you too."

"Prove it," she said thoughtlessly.

"We're married."

"Yeah, I guess that's good enough." She kissed his neck for a while. They were both quiet and didn't move, except for small adjustments for comfort. "If you're the head of the Malfoy house, can your parents still make you do what they want?'

"Legally, sure. Effectively, no."

"Don't be a Death Eater; I can't love a Death Eater."

"Alright."

"I mean it, Draco," she said sternly. "I'll leave you if you do. I'll break the ring and leave you."

"I get it, alright? I won't join You-Know-Who."

Hermione smiled and resumed giving little soft kisses down his neck. They fell asleep not long after in their intertwined position.

* * *

Hermione never returned to her muggle home, nor the Selwyn manor. Narcissa visited often, mostly to care for her birds, which Hermione didn't mind at all. She once offered to help her move them all, but that just forced Narcissa to admit she liked the chance to leave the company of her husband's family. So she kept coming, lovingly caring for her little children.

But despite Hermione's personal life calming down, the wizarding world at large was very slowly, very subtly, falling into chaos. The Ministry went under Voldemort's control. Theodore Nott, to Hermione's horror, had killed Professor Dumbledore at the end of the Sixth year.

The summer after sixth year, Harry and Ron came to her and begged for her help. They were going to search for a way to destroy Voldemort. She glowered when they spoke his name in her manor. Draco agreed with their cause as much as Hermione, but insisted that they really didn't want to get involved in dangerous matters.

"I'm not going to school this year either," Hermione explained, "It's too political, and I'm trying to have a baby."

Ron had muttered "What for?" at that. Both of them were a little upset she wouldn't offer them anything. Their paths had split for good.

Draco did go to school his seventh year, on account of needing the N.E.W.T. level classes to add to his resume- he wasn't about to waste his fortune living without a good job. They did finally have a little boy, who they named Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, and was born April 21st that year.

At the end of the school year there was a terrible attack on Hogwarts, which involved the dark lord killing many students, some being her friends. Harry and Ron weren't mentioned, so she figured they were off somewhere else. She hoped they had been off somewhere else. Draco was fine, he stayed in hiding for the most part, according to his letter. Apparently, Voldemort had taken over the school, and was sending muggleborns to the ministry. It wasn't looking good for many of the students there, but it seemed he was sparing half-bloods for now.

Hermione couldn't have been more thankful when Draco returned home. They hardly left the manor for a long time then, afraid of the chaos brewing outside the safety of their walls. From what she pieced together from Narcissa's visits, Harry had been killed that summer. She didn't cry, but felt bad, as if she somehow could have prevented it. But then, maybe Harry's death was inevitable.

The world would calm down within a year. Draco would get a job at the ministry. They had a second child, a daughter named Kynthia Eros Malfoy. When Scorpius was three, and Kynthia still an infant at two months old, one last bit of drama was forced onto her. Scorpius had woken her up during a rare time of sleep, but she smiled and let him show her what he thought was important.

"Is it dead?" Scorpius whined, pointing to the carcass on their doormat. Emmeryn had her head and wings cut off- and not cleanly. The body smelled metallic, clearly coming from the blood-soaked feathers.

"Did you see what did this? Did Mommy's kitty hurt her?"

Crookshanks had never touched Emmeryn before, but what else would have done it? Scorpius shrugged and asked if Emmeryn was dead once more. Hermione just nodded. She held her nose and kneeled down to see if anything had left its trace. She expected she might see claw marks, but instead found a small envelope drenched in blood. She was surprised she hadn't seen it immediately.

"Mommy's going to give her bird a funeral." Hermione announced, then conjured a trash bag. She picked up the body with the bag, then inverted and tied it up. Then, the letter. Someone had left a message for her or Draco, and it didn't seem to be pleasant. She blew softly on the envelope. Nothing unusual happened. Judging it safe under the bias of curiosity, she picked the letter up and opened it.

Inside was a note and time-turner.

 _You're the only one who can save us. Don't be selfish. Go back, stop your crazy family from taking you away. -Ron_

Ron? As in, Ron Weasley? Where in the world did he get a time-turner? She didn't even know he was still alive. And why kill the bird? Emmeryn was a sweet little bird, just as conscious as any cat or owl.

He wanted her to... stop her family? She wasn't sure but assumed he meant the Selwyns.

"Mommy?"

Hermione jumped and looked down at Scorpius.

"Oh, sorry, sweetie. What's the matter?"

"You look silly, mommy."

"Silly?"

"Yeah! You look silly and scared."

"Well, somebody hurt Mommy's bird, and they left a not very nice letter too."

Scorpius didn't seem to be able to wrap his head around it, so Hermione smiled simply. Scorpius smiled back, bigger. Effectively calming him down, Hermione sat nearby and reread the letter.

Ron wanted her to stop the Selwyns... to go back four and a half years. That would only make her life worse, it wouldn't have changed anything for the better. She concluded that Ron had wanted to rid her of her happiness out of spite, jealously. How childish.

Infuriated, she destroyed the letter and the time-turner and never thought of it again.

* * *

Hello! Author here! Thanks for reading "Red Cockatiel Feathers"! I assume if you made it this far, you must have enjoyed the story. So thanks! I'm glad I could share something with you. I have learned a LOT from the two weeks I took to write this, but mainly that actually writing, without weeks of proofreading and rewriting and cutting and planning for every chapter, is very effective. I have more to show for this story than I do for any of my other, higher quality 3-chapter stories. If you have any observations, questions, or thoughts on this story, let me know by writing a review. All the questions posted publicly will be answered by PM, as well as added here for everyone's convenience. Once again, I cannot express how much I adore every reader. Thank you all.

With love,  
PhoenixAshSecrets

 **Questions:**

 **What's the deal with the cockatiels?**  
I used cockatiels to represent Hermione's relationship with Draco. Emmeryn dislikes those who try to get in the way of their romantic relationship. The cockatiels in the dreams/nightmares symbolize Hermione's fear of the relationship. (She fears that liking Draco will destroy her goodness, which is represented through a _white balloon_. I picked a white balloon because the color white is almost always used to represent goodness and purity, and balloons are associated with children and playfulness.)

 **What happened to Voldemort?**  
Voldemort took over the world- just not as directly as he wanted to. He essentially realized his original plan wouldn't have worked, so he hijacked most of the government (through his death eaters) and acted as a large puppet master. Hermione doesn't really know how bad it is, and Voldemort's power, strangely enough, doesn't have a lot of relevance to her personal story anymore.

 **Are you going to write any more?**  
Check with me in a month ;)

 **Did you know how the story was going to end when you started?**  
I usually plan my stories for weeks and weeks, but I created this account and wrote this fic as part of an experiment of sorts to see if I could write without doing that. The one thing I did plan was Emmeryn the cockatiel dying in the last chapter. I knew someone was going to kill her (not a natural death) and that Hermione would be furious, but that was it. The rest wrote itself. I'm not 100% happy with the result, but it turned out much better than I expected.


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